Blood Water
by Laurie Bunter
Summary: In the Commonwealth of Karakura, an innocent young woman is on trial for murder. Inspector Ichigo Kurosaki feels duty-bound to investigate the case. What he doesn't know is that he's about to encounter the sordid side of his beloved archipelago. AU
1. Prologue: 200 Cherry Blossom Lane

_Summary_: In the Commonwealth of Karakura, an innocent young woman is on trial for the murder of her sister. Ichigo Kurosaki, rookie inspector for the Metropolitan Police, feels duty-bound to investigate the case. What he doesn't know yet is that he's about to come face-to-face with the sordid, unscrupulous side of his beloved archipelago.

_Details: _subtle IchiRuki, with hints of other pairings in the later chapters. Approximately 15 chapters and 26,000 words long. Fic will be updated every week, so stay tuned.

Written as part of the Alternative Universe challenge with Adam Epp. Read his fic, "Dreams and Fears," if you wish to compare. We were working on this at the same time. You can find his stories via my Favorite Authors page.

_disclaimer_: All Bleach names are the creation of Kubo Tite.

* * *

**Blood/Water**

by Laurie Bunter

* * *

_**Prologue: 200 Cherry Blossom Lane, Seireitei**_

The light in the sick room shifted as the moonlight filtered in through the window. The air stirred. A shadow seemed to move across the highly polished parquet floorboards.

Byakuya Kuchiki considered the tableau.

The room was in its usual condition of disarray: his eyes absentmindedly swept over the glass medicine cabinet left ajar, the overflowing trash bin at the foot of the bed, even the discarded acupuncture needles on its metal tray and the half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol beside it.

He did not expect to come home to this. His wife, dead, covered beneath a white cotton sheet; his wife, alive… her deep violet eyes haunted, almost guilty.

Byakuya Kuchiki blinked. His Hisana was dead. The woman clutching her hand, refusing to move away from her body, was only her carbon copy. It was her younger sister, Rukia.

The man had many cares on his mind: the real estate deal that fell through today, for instance. There was that urgent call from a source that asked him to investigate one of his business partners; he brushed it off as corporate paranoia. There were dozens of angry leaseholders demanding to speak to him personally. These things hassled him as the fading condition of his wife lurked in the back of his head. Byakuya almost forgot that he now had a sister-in-law, someone who had just exchanged her assumed last name to take his own. It was Hisana's wish, and he always honored Hisana's wishes.

Now, however, their only common link was gone. He could no longer do exactly what Hisana asked of him.

"I'm so very sorry, Nii-sama."

_Strange how her voice choked,_ Byakuya thought listlessly. He resisted the urge to comfort his sister-in-law. He felt awkward showing Rukia any tenderness. Instead, he waved her away to station himself by his wife's bed. "You've done enough," he said. "Please go."

Reluctantly, Rukia let go of Hisana's hand. She got up from the floor and turned to the door.

"The police will be here soon," he added. "Better know what to tell them when they make the initial report."

"The police?" Rukia echoed, dumbstruck.

Byakuya turned away, and lifted the sheet covering his wife's face. "Yes, the police. I called them as soon as I found out. You will be taken into custody soon."

His back was turned towards her, but Rukia could see that he was about to kiss her sister's pale lips.

Rukia's face slowly drained of color.

She ran down the hallway, just in time to see the housemaid let in two uniformed inspectors into the house. One of them looked vaguely familiar.

A shadow fell across her path. It was Byakuya's grandfather, Ginrei, who leaned heavily on his cane. "My dear child," he said, his head bowed in apology. "This was not my idea at all."

The blood flooding in Rukia's heart turned to snow.

* * *


	2. Chapter 1: At the Courthouse

_**Chapter 1: At the Courthouse, All Souls Square, Tsubaki-dai District**_

The air in the courthouse smelled of a hundred bodies growing stale in the summer weather.

It was another one of those sultry days in the Commonwealth of Karakura and no one was going to escape the heat. Not Judge Yamamoto who was sweating beneath his long white hair and beard. Not the unruffled prosecution panel or the indifferent team for the defense -- they were all collectively sweltering beneath their black robes despite the air conditioning.

Definitely not Ichigo Kurosaki, who sat scowling in the back of the crowded room. He was dressed in mufti, and watched the proceedings with a slight expression of distaste and scorn. Droplets of perspiration beaded his forehead.

Something about this case irked him. From the hour the case was handed to the Metropolitan Police of Karakura until the warrant of arrest was issued, Ichigo had a bad feeling about it. Yet it was not his case, and it was not his job to tell the defense that the King's Counsel had railroaded them into a speedy trial. He was, after all, just another inspector in this tiny archipelago. This crime didn't even happen on his turf, what right did he have to comment on it?

The heat was definitely getting to his head. There was no logical reason for Ichigo Kurosaki to be so irritable.

The only one the summer heat didn't seem to affect was the accused, already dressed in the standard white robes of those condemned to death: Rukia Kuchiki.

"Why did they even bother to tag her?" Ichigo Kurosaki growled to himself. The red leather detector on her pale neck was the ultimate humiliation. Only notorious smugglers and repeat offenders were issued those devices that monitor the wearer's location and made escape nearly impossible. "She even looks more young and fragile with that stupid thing on," he muttered to himself. "It totally gives her the sympathy vote of the jury."

Ichigo did not want to admit it, but it certainly won _his_ sympathy. Not that she needed to win it prior to donning the red collar in public. He felt bad for her the moment he saw her.

There was something about that girl. Her eyes were always so cool and warm at the same time ⎯ like dry ice. Ichigo knew that if he had met this woman under different circumstances, she would blow both hot and cold and burn him alive.

Right now, however, were the worst circumstances possible.

Rukia Kuchiki's head was bowed but she was not crying. There was no fear in her face: only resignation.

If there was one thing that Ichigo Kurosaki couldn't accept, it was resignation to one's fate. He didn't believe in fate. He believed in shaping his own. If he believed in fate – hell, he wouldn't be an inspector. He would let the guilty be found out by their crimes.

But things didn't work out that way in real life: the guilty needed to be actively ferreted out. They needed to be pursued and exposed for what they really are. It wasn't that he believed in human justice – the court system was flawed and Ichigo was highly suspicious of it – but he personally liked to know he could sleep with his conscience at night.

"The jury is taking too long."

Ichigo was almost startled by the statement whispered in his ear. He turned around to see a stranger cooling himself with a paper fan. The man's face was in shadows, partly obscured by a large striped hat.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yes I am," the stranger replied. "I've been watching you. You've been attending the trial since the start."

"Who are you?" Ichigo blurted out.

"Kisuke Urahara," the man smiled toothily. "No, I'm not a ghoul for the courts," he added. "I'm here because the accused is one of my best customers."

_Great,_ Ichigo wanted to roll his eyes._ He's just another busybody, an amateur detective with a crack theory._

"Would you be interested to know," Urahara leaned over confidentially, "that she didn't do it?"

"Go tell the press," Ichigo said, bored. "I'm not here for the neighborhood gossip."

"But I'm not a small-time gossip, Ichigo Kurosaki." The eyes were twinkling behind the paper fan.

Ichigo sputtered. "How do you know my name?"

"Your hair makes you a distinctive character, inspector," Urahara said. "Orange hair and a snarl – you should try smiling. You'd stand out less that way."

The inspector decided this man was not worth his time. He was about to stand up, anyway. If he grabbed a snack quickly, he'd be back before the jury made its call.

"Wait!" Urahara said, clutching at Ichigo's arm. "I know why she's innocent. The case against Rukia Kuchiki isn't waterproof. Ask any of their tenants, they will tell you ⎯ "

But before the man in the striped green hat could say more, the lights went out and a collective groan echoed throughout the hall plunged into darkness.

There was a scuffle and before he knew it, the hand holding his arm had involuntarily let go.

Temporarily blinded, Ichigo only heard the twitch of a butterfly knife.

He jumped out of his seat. "Hat man!" he hollered. Without thinking of the repercussions, he raised his voice even louder. "No one move! Someone's been hurt. We need a light here!"

The buzz of sound became insurmountable. Ichigo could hear the disturbance by the exit. There were yells and curses in the air.

Ichigo caught Urahara as he was about to crumble to the floor.

"Tell me what you know," he demanded of the man.

"The Kuchiki may be known for the wealth," Urahara mumbled, "but some envy their beautiful skin and glossy hair." Then he passed out.

The lights were suddenly restored and Ichigo Kurosaki found himself holding a stabbed man. Blood covered his hands.

Ichigo couldn't hear his thoughts over the screaming.

- - - - -

- - - - -


	3. Chapter 2: still at the Courthouse

_**Chapter 2: At the Courthouse, All Souls Square, Tsubaki-dai District**_

* * *

Judge Yamamoto was still at the helm. A day had passed.

After the excitement in court, everyone was eager to go back to waiting for the fateful result of the murder case of the year. The man stabbed in the courthouse, Kisuke Urahara, turned out to be an eccentric middle-aged gentleman who owned a candy shop. He had never been to the courthouse before, and so it was sheer dumb luck for him to be targeted by the anti-Kuchiki rabble.

The attempted killer was apprehended: Kaname Tousen, former petty criminal, now a self-styled religious fanatic. He was talking to himself about the righteousness of murder when he was taken into custody. When questioned about his motives, Tousen grew eloquent with his silence. A psychiatrist was asked to check out his mental state.

The newspapers screamed _Random Stabbing at Kuchiki Poison Trial: A Conspiracy?_ and _Courthouse Chaos: Diversionary Tactic a Failure, Kuchiki Escape Plan Foiled!_ Ichigo glanced at the headlines that morning and snorted. He didn't believe in shelling out cash for such trash.

Ichigo was just relieved that the stabbed man was saved ⎯ rushed to the hospital, only round-the-clock surgeries dealt with the multiple stab wounds that punctured his internal organs. _He's still unconscious,_ Ichigo thought ruefully. _I wonder what he was trying to tell me. _

The young inspector shook his head. Perhaps this case was making people hysterical and paranoid.

"Ichigo." A meaty hand clapped down on his shoulder.

The inspector almost jumped out of his skin. "Damn it, don't do that," he hissed.

The man sitting behind him grinned. This time it was his best friend, Yasutora "Chad" Sado. The mestizo had been there for an hour and Ichigo hadn't realized it.

"The jury is taking too long."

"Oh yeah? I heard that same line yesterday," Ichigo replied. "The last guy who said to me that got stabbed. I should make him pay for my jacket."

"It's no joke," Chad said.

"No one's laughing," Ichigo said grimly. "Least of all the Kuchiki. They are one of the most powerful clans in the country, and this whole trial makes the family look bad. Man, they employ a hundred people in their posh Seireitei resort! Do you realize how hard it was to find a jury? I heard the courts had to ferry in some people from the far-flung districts of Rukongai."

"Yeah," Chad was quiet. After several moments, he said: "She didn't do it, Ichigo."

"Are you saying that they arrested the wrong person?"

"Maybe," Chad shrugged.

Ichigo frowned, knowing exactly what was on Chad's mind because it was on his own. Chad noticed that his buddy's knuckles were clenched so hard they were turning white.

"Why are you so worked up?" Chad asked. "I don't even know why you're here. Isn't it your day off?"

Ichigo's face was a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Yes, it was his day off, but he felt compelled to come anyway. He had a strange premonition about the whole situation, and he was waiting to see if he was right. Perhaps the odd feeling he got, the first time he saw Rukia Kuchiki, would then go away.

Put on the spot, he got defensive. "Oh yeah? Then why are you here?"

"A friend's on the jury," Chad said. "And I was in the area. Pet license."

"Oh."

Why did Ichigo often make the effort to slip away from work, just to catch a glimpse of this girl? The courthouse was just across a few blocks away from the office. Was that it? Maybe it was professional interest. Ichigo was surprised that not thirty days had passed since the initial arrest to the trial. This sort of speed was unprecedented in the history of the Commonwealth but no one had lodged a formal complaint. The uproar over the murder of Hisana Kuchiki, the angel of Karakura's children's hospitals and orphanages, of course explained everything. It was her bleeding heart that opened up the purses of the Kuchiki clan and poured funds into charitable works. It was a good thing she had limited her largesse to the Karakura mainland, and not to the other islands – if she had, then the hysteria surrounding the case would have easily doubled.

Yesterday's ruckus in court was only the tip of the iceberg. Ichigo was vexed. Cases like this attracted all the crazies… made them come out of the woodwork. Hell, if it made _him_ interested… surely it riveted everyone else.

Hisana Kuchiki. The wife of the famous Byakuya Kuchiki, dead in her bedroom after a quiet evening spent in the ancestral Kuchiki mansion in Seireitei. Ichigo remembered the initial news report the day after he saw Rukia Kuchiki brought in for temporary custody. This move irritated the small Seireitei outpost but it was something that the Superintendent himself had ordered.

Today's news was no different: strong on speculation, short on facts.

_Last March, 28-year old Hisana Kuchiki succumbed to arsenic poisoning after eating a home-cooked dinner especially made by Rukia Kuchiki, 21, the victim's sister. The siblings were celebrating the first year anniversary of their reunion._

_During this week's trial, the King's Counsel called on Momo Hinamori, a member of the Kuchiki household staff, to testify against the accused. Only upon threat of contempt of court and indefinite gaol time did Hinamori admit she saw white powder on victim's plate after she had cleared the table. The reluctance of the witness to testify is attributed to her fear of her employer, Byakuya Kuchiki, CEO of the Kuchiki Group. _

_According to Hinamori's testimony, the victim was violently ill before expiring. She was not brought to the hospital for the medical emergency. Doctors later certified that Kuchiki's symptoms were consistent with cases of arsenic poisoning. Furthermore, tests run on the deceased were positive for traces of the poison._

_The __**Karakura Daily News**__ has learned from insider sources that the accused was recently named as the sole benefactor of the victim's estate, estimated at 1 billion Karakura pounds. Sources close to the family, speaking on conditions of anonymity, mentions that the victim's husband, Byakuya Kuchiki, settled the estate upon her soon after their marriage five years ago. _

_The accused has yet to give any public statement aside from her plea of innocence. _

_The Kuchiki sisters were already newsworthy before the victim's tragic death. It had been revealed that the Commission on Social Services mistakenly parted the orphaned siblings twenty years ago, allowing the elder Kuchiki to be adopted. This became a landmark story that sparked official inquiries into the internal affairs of the CSS. The Kuchiki family repeatedly asked for the press to respect their privacy regarding the situation. _

_Before her untimely death, Hisana Kuchiki – well known in high society for her charitable causes – vowed to help other orphans find their missing siblings._

Almost everyone believed Rukia did the deed. It was done out of spite, said some; Hisana was adopted by a good family soon after they were orphaned. Rukia, however, grew up at one of the orphanages in the slums of Rukongai. No one knows what sort of life Rukia Kuchiki had led before she was found, or even what name she was given at the orphanage.

These facts – and the 1 billion Karakura pounds – were the only motives supplied for the crime. The inspector was suspicious. While most heinous crimes didn't require a motive for conviction, Ichigo Kurosaki himself was uncomfortable with the lack of one. "Hell," Ichigo said under his breath. "Who still uses arsenic, anyway?"

After several hours, the sound of feet shuffling filled the room. The jury was finally back. Many of them were fanning themselves vigorously, as if dissatisfied with their conclave. Some of them had huge frowns of frustration on their faces. These jurors averted their eyes from the accused.

Across the room, Rukia's eyes encountered those of the inspector. _I am innocent of this crime, _those eyes said. _I did not kill my sister._

Her gaze was defiant and yet oddly trusting.

It was as if she knew who he was, and why he kept showing up, even if Ichigo himself had not yet found the reason.

Ichigo's hands balled into tight fists. He wanted to believe this stranger. Yet this was not his case. She could be sentenced as guilty in the next moment. How could he help her now?

Somewhere along the trail of evidence, someone in the ranks must have made a dreadful mistake. If he had more time, he could do a little investigation of his own.

The inspector blinked. When he looked up again, her gaze upon him was gone.

"She's innocent," Chad repeated.

Ichigo wasn't sure where his friend's belief came from, but he had learned to trust Chad's instincts. They were as finely honed as his own.

The young inspector could only hope for more time.

"What says the jury?" Judge Yamamoto said. His indifferent tone spoke highly of his expected outcome. It was an open-and-shut case, for all he cared. He had no idea why the jury took two days in deliberating the outcome.

The forewoman stood up, a petite and slim woman who wore a pale yellow sash at her waist. "Your honor, it is my misfortune to inform you that this jury is at a stalemate. We cannot come to a consensus regarding the guilt of the accused."

"What?" the judge almost hollered. One eye cocked open and glared at the group that suddenly cowered in the jury box. Among the twelve, only three people looked openly defiant of his authority: a one-armed woman equipped with a cocky grin, a thin man wearing glasses and a natty tie covered with crosses, and a buxom young woman with spectacular auburn hair. The younger woman's eyes almost quivered upon contact with the judge, but she rallied and held his gaze.

"Yes, your honor," the forewoman repeated. "We understand that. Yet we have found it impossible to reach a consensus, as some members refuse to be convinced and have already stated that it is impossible for them to believe otherwise."

"I am alarmed by the behavior of this jury," Judge Yamamoto bellowed. "A miscarriage of justice would be a grave offense if anyone here is found to have been influenced by outside forces or monetarily benefiting from the outcome of this case."

The crowd's eye swept up and focused on the husband of the deceased. Byakuya Kuchiki was in the room. His face was impassive. If he was bothered by the hardly veiled reference to him, not a single facial muscle acknowledged this fact.

"Let it be known that I will not let the integrity of this court be mocked by either the powerful or the moneyed! It will not be cowed by underhanded attempts to undermine its authority as an institution dedicated to justice!"

Yesterday's little stabbing was forgotten in the wake of this revelation. The news hounds in the room jumped at the judge's statements, some of them mumbling observations into handheld tape recorders. A quick sketch artist was on the scene, detailing the judge's flailing nostrils with surprising accuracy. One man with conspicuous tattoos on his face was scribbling away notes into his Blackberry like mad.

Judge Yamamoto took no notice of this flurry of activity. He was still hammering away at the jury. "Perhaps you just need more time. The court is willing to recess until you have come to a suitable verdict of Guilty or Not Guilty."

The crowd waiting for the outcome of the case was uneasy. Several pitched voices were raised in an outbreak of voluble comments.

"This is stupid, of course she's innocent."

"Why don't they just convict her? There are no other suspects."

"This is a clear example of rich people getting away with murder."

"Silence!" he barked.

"Your honor," the forewoman had just a hint of injury in her voice, as if she was taking her court-assigned duty more seriously than the judge took his. "It is impossible to reach a consensus with this set of jurors."

Judge Yamamoto opened both eyes, and surveyed the jury, the crowd, and then the barristers. His piercing gaze studied the accused before he spoke. "Very well. The case of the Commonwealth against Rukia Kuchiki is suspended, as a fresh trial will be ordered within a month's time. The accused shall remain detained at the Penitence Gaol and cannot post bail. This is still a charge for murder. This jury is dismissed." Upon that curt announcement, the judge swept out, highly displeased.

The crowd whooped and booed. The King's Counsel looked fit to kill the jury. The defense team tried to look smug, as if they had prayed for this outcome.

The media ⎯ led by the man with tattoos ⎯ doggedly pursued Byakuya Kuchiki as he crossed the corridor with a light, fast step. The reporter was uncommonly persistent even as a bald bodyguard pushed him back and snarled. A row between the two seemed inevitable, but ended as soon as Byakuya sidestepped into the safety of his waiting limousine.

And the accused ⎯ such a petite, delicate figure ⎯ disappeared from sight almost instantly, whisked away by the bailiffs before she could be verbally attacked with catcalls and boos.

Ichigo Kurosaki stood up. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

_Next three chapters to be uploaded next week. Reviews are nice…_


	4. Chapter 3: at the Twin Fish office

_**Chapter 3: At the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd., on the corner of 8th and 13th Streets, Kita-Kawase District**_

* * *

His office door shot open. The head of the firm knew a lot of people who were fond of dramatic entrances but this one had a definite flair for it: Ichigo Kurosaki. It wasn't just the shock of orange hair that erupted from his head, but the scowling forehead that went with it. It was a balmy afternoon, and unlike any other young professional slacking off on the job to go to the beach, this specimen looked like he was only fit to pop his frontal vein due to stress.

Ukitake seemed almost too pleased to see him. "Why, it's our prodigal intern. I've been trying to contact you! There was a favor I wanted to ask--"

"Tell me Ukitake… why do people kill?" Ichigo interrupted as he plopped unceremoniously into the visitor's chair.

The man behind the teak desk coughed gently and put away the documents he was reading. Ukitake knew why he was here, but he played along. Kurosaki was not the only rookie policeman on the force who crawled back to his office for guidance. "Well, self-preservation is often the most common reason for people to justify violence against--"

"Why, Kurosaki, if you haven't figured that out yet, Ukitake should have fired you," drawled Shunsui Kyoraku, who had barged into his partner's office. "Thank God you left on your own. What sort of havoc you've been doing at the Met since you left us? I tremble to think."

Ukitake scratched his head. "Why Shunsui! Are you back from your stint in rehab so soon?"

"Came straight from the ferry ride," Shunsui grinned. "I wanted to see my Nanao-chan and tell her that I'm sober now."

"Sober?" Ichigo was stunned by that news more than by Shunsui's good-natured insults. He studied the dapper man standing before them. Dressed in an impeccable suit, the gaudy pink cravat Shunsui wore rather destroyed the outfit. It also rendered him a conspicuous private investigator. "_You_? Cut cold turkey? Is that even possible?"

The two older men looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Shunsui sank into the chair opposite the young inspector. "Ukitake's kidding! I was checking out some strange goings-on over at Seireitei involving phony land titles. I was there for a week. Boring stuff, compared to what you've got your fingers on."

"I haven't gotten my fingers around anyone!" Ichigo growled. "I just want to see if someone on the force overlooked some clue."

"Now, now," Ukitake made soothing noises. "That Rukia Kuchiki is a pretty girl but surely Kurosaki here has only the best intentions. I'm happy you're taking an interest in her case. We read about your involvement in yesterday's smash-up. It was in the news." Ichigo refused to blush and so the white-haired private investigator went on. "Regarding your question, people do kill for many reasons. Some people will do anything to protect themselves, what is theirs, and what they believe is rightfully theirs. In the case of Hisana Kuchiki, she's an innocent victim, no doubt."

"No one deserves to be poisoned," Ichigo muttered.

"That is if she was indeed poisoned," Ukitake said. "Look. I know you're quite new to be handling a murder investigation. It's not your forte yet." Ichigo nodded sullenly. For some reason, his boss always assigned him to check out smugglers and apprehend rapists. "And you didn't do the initial investigation."

"Are you leading me up a tree here?"

"Be patient, Kurosaki." Ukitake was clearly warming up to his role. "You need to double-check every step the inspector before you made. This may get you into trouble if you're not actually assigned to the case. Also, you need to know that the Kuchiki family has some secrets to hide, and more importantly, a lot of enemies."

"You think someone would murder Hisana Kuchiki to get back at the family?" Ichigo was interested.

"It's not farfetched," Ukitake answered. "It would be difficult to prove, though, especially if it's a professional hit. You might be looking for a culprit who's fled overseas."

A groan involuntarily escaped Ichigo's throat. "And Byakuya Kuchiki is known to have business interests in Taiwan, Japan, and the Philippines."

Ukitake sighed. "That's true. What I am glad is that by some miracle you got a hung jury. You have a month to gather new information that will help get the defense a continuance."

Ichigo smirked. "I met one of the jurors who refused to vote guilty," he said. "Turned out that the auburn-haired girl on the jury is an acquaintance of my best friend Chad."

Ukitake looked slightly interested. "Do you remember this juror's name?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. I'm horrible with that sort of thing. Which is just as well, she won't get involved in this case again. She might be one of the jurors ferried in."

The older man shrugged. "It's good to keep tabs on everyone who makes contact with you on this matter…"

Ichigo was getting impatient with this advice. He knew all of this already. But Ukitake was not to be rushed.

"…And you need to do is to check the autopsy reports. If they are off, you need to get an exhumation order for the body. That Ishida…"

"What about him? He's the chief coroner, supposed to be the best the Commonwealth has ever seen," Ichigo furrowed his brow. "At least, that's what I know about him."

Shunsui shook his head sadly. "Oh, you naïve boy. Your recent promotion makes me forget that you've only been on the force for six months. Chief Coroner's an appointed position. No. Ryuken Ishida is a great doctor, but he's better with saving live bodies, not figuring out what killed dead ones. He's not a forensic scientist. It's not his fault. The last person to hold that position – the best damn scientist this Commonwealth will ever see – he's gotten quite dotty."

"So, who are the new go-to people for hard evidence?" Ichigo inquired, although he knew where this was leading.

"This place, of course," The twinkle in Ukitake's eyes was unmistakable. "Nothing like a private inquiry agency to keep everyone on the staff on their toes. From shadowing to lab work, we do it best and we don't cut corners. If you could handle the red tape, we wouldn't mind lending our guy to be at the exhumation."

So things were looking up. Ichigo knew he'd have to file a ton of paperwork to get an exhumation order now, and he would need a good reason to file one. Inspectors weren't allowed to dig up dead people on solely on their gut feelings. Still, he took mental note of the offer.

Shunsui cocked his head to the side and added thoughtfully, "I've met Byakuya Kuchiki. He's rather ruthless. If someone was to kill his wife, he'd want to get revenge on his own."

"Thanks for the warning," Ichigo said. "Seeing that I'd have to bump heads with him to get any new information on his family."

A knock on the door made them all pause, but it was only Nanao, the agency's executive assistant. She wheeled in a tea cart laden with baked sweets. She also pulled out a thick wad of paperwork from under the tea things including a folder labeled _Shunsui's Tasks_.

"It's time for our meeting," she reminded the two older men. She barely glanced at Ichigo. "Should I come back?"

"No need," Ichigo rose to go. "What's that favor?"

"Not important anymore," Ukitake said. "But wait. You don't know everything yet, Kurosaki."

_Damn this old coot,_ Ichigo thought with chagrin. _Leaving the most important information for last. He _always _does this._ His hand was on the doorknob. "What is it?"

"The man who was stabbed yesterday?" Ukitake folded his hands before him. "Kisuke Urahara."

"Yeah? He was just some courtroom nut."

"That's not his real name," Ukitake said. "When he was much younger, he used to be known by the moniker Benihime."

"Rather gay, don't you think?" Ichigo blurted out.

"The newspapers didn't recognize him, he's changed so much," Shunsui interjected. "He's not gay… but he can get rather jolly." Significant pause. "And he's the eccentric genius we were just talking about... he was the commonwealth's duly appointed Chief Coroner before Ishida."

_Oh fuck._

"He used to be an acquaintance of ours," Ukitake explained. "He used to be a friend of your boss, too. A very _good_ friend of hers, but the Shihoin wouldn't mention that to a subordinate like you."

Shunsui snorted. "You're so discreet. You might as well say as soon as the Shihoin forgives him for being a stupid ass for that trick he played on her two years ago, they'll be tighter than thieves. Nobody's going to get close enough to kill him while he's lying unconscious in the hospital. The Shihoin's love, like her wrath, is a scary emotion to provoke."

_Double fuck._ Now was not the time to admit he was stupid and dismissive.

"He was trying to tell me something about the Kuchiki family," Ichigo said slowly. "But it didn't make sense."

Shunsui smiled contentedly, nostalgia on his face. "That's Benihime all over. He likes his little riddles."

Ichigo's curiosity got the better of him. "Why Benihime?"

"Because whenever he got to dissect a new corpse, it was like he was having an audience with royalty," Shunsui answered. "He could cut a fresh body and make its blood dance."

Whenever Shunsui started using his poetic license, Ichigo took it as a cue to be gone.

The young inspector was almost out the door when Shunsui took his parting shot. "Good luck with the case, boy. If you get Rukia Kuchiki off the hook, just remember don't push her into falling in love with you out of gratitude. Give her time and make her come to_ you_. She's a real keeper. Maybe you can put some life back into her pale face. She's no match for my Nanao-chan, but…"

His face was turned away from them, but Ichigo's nape was hot.

Nanao tut-tutted. Ukitake merely swallowed his smile.

As soon as the door closed behind him, however, Nanao turned more serious than usual. "I don't understand," she asked the two older men as she poured out their tea. "If this man Urahara is so important, why aren't we the ones checking out this case?"

"Nonsense," Shunsui told her. "It's Ichigo's_ job_ to be curious."

"And what about us?" She was unconvinced. "Isn't this a major conflict of interest?"

Shunsui gave her a warning look, and Nanao did not continue the rest of her thought out loud.

"Never forget the difference between us and the Met," Ukitake reminded her. "We neither choose our clients nor the cases they ask us to investigate, and our loyalties are to them during the duration of the case. We must keep our thoughts to ourselves. Ichigo, on the other hand…" the head of the firm suddenly beamed. "Ichigo is at the mercy of the common taxpayer. So everything and everyone is his business and his responsibility. And I suspect he likes it like that."


	5. Interlude 3 5: at the Met headquarters

_**Interlude 3.5: At the Met Headquarters, Key Street, Mashiba District**_

* * *

The phone on Ichigo's desk rang. "The materials are available now, inspector."

Ichigo tossed away the paperwork he was double-checking before submission. It was just another smuggling case closed. He had led a successful raid on a warehouse the other night. No casualties. All that was left of that case was to track down the guy who rented the warehouse for the month. Who ever it was, Ichigo conceded, he was quite clever in covering his tracks.

Yet it was not as compelling as the Kuchiki poisoning case, not in a hundred years. He had to put off sticking his finger into that pie since he made up his mind -- his official case load was a hassle -- so now Ichigo found himself pacing hurriedly to Central Archives. When he got there, he found the brightly lit basement empty except for neat stacks of file boxes.

"Thanks for the quick work, Tatsuki," Ichigo said, scooping up the box labeled _H. Kuchiki: Do Not Remove from CA_ that was left temptingly open on the counter. "Your new system works great." He shook the box a bit. It was surprisingly light.

"Not so fast mister, first you got to show me you actually got permission from Chief Inspector Shihoin to look at that stuff," Tatsuki grabbed the box back. Apparently she was going to stick to procedure on this. She tapped her clipboard. "And sign here if you plan to take it with you. The only reason that file box is here is due to the court case."

"Who was the original inspector assigned to the investigation?" Ichigo asked.

The spiky haired woman put down the clipboard and took a squint at her computerized index. "It seems to have changed hands twice," she said. "First it was assigned to Inspector Abarai but Inspector Kira took charge afterwards."

Ideas were swimming in Ichigo's head. Both inspectors were unknown to him; most likely they were stationed at Seireitei, where Hisana died. Either way, it didn't sound like a promising start.

Still, he took the opportunity of Tatsuki's divided attention to make off with the file box. "Thanks, Tatsuki!" He yelled over his shoulder, bumping into someone on his way out. "Sorry." Ichigo didn't even pause to look at the person he had hit.

"Wait!" When Tatsuki swung her gaze in the right direction, Ichigo was gone. "That bastard," she muttered to herself. "He never follows protocol." Sighing, she made a notation on the clipboard.

Tatsuki would feel better about herself if her friend told her what he was up to. She went to the back of the Archives to pull out some more requested files.

Unbeknownst to the feisty archivist, the inspector who was brushing his slightly bruised shoulder saw everything. His eyes narrowed. The man backtracked and pulled out his cell phone.

"Talk to me at our place, same time," was all he said before hanging up.

Half an hour later, when Tatsuki returned to the front counter, all she saw was an unknown officer, who had fallen asleep among the periodicals.

_Nice ink,_ Inspector, she thought, and turned her attentions to her next project.


	6. Chapter 4: still at the Met headquarters

_**Chapter 4: At the Met Headquarters, Key Street, Mashiba District**_

* * *

Ichigo was incensed. He was fighting mad. He wanted to punch a wall.

So he did.

Too bad the wall he punched was the cubicle wall. Sitting in the opposite cubicle, a junior officer's face went ashy.

Sergeant Keigo Asano peered over the edge. "Inspector Kurosaki, did you feel that tremor?" he stammered. He was scared of earthquakes.

Ichigo snarled at him. Sergeant Asano jumped back. He may be scared of earthquakes, but Inspector Kurosaki was scarier. The dark cloud over Ichigo's head was growing. He may have opted out of the formal black of their official uniform, as his right as a ranking officer, but even in mufti Inspector Kurosaki commanded respect.

At least, that's how it seemed to Sergeant Asano.

Ichigo's attention returned to his work. Emptying out the box was futile. There was nothing left for him to examine. It took only a single hour to read through everything. Ichigo could not believe anyone was going to be declared guilty and sentenced to death on such flimsy evidence.

The case against Rukia Kuchiki all boiled down to one eyewitness account, the housemaid named Momo Hinamori. Everything else was hearsay and supposition. Ichigo immediately dismissed the evidence of Rukia's fingerprints all over the room. That didn't prove anything -- she was a family member, after all -- it was logical that she would leave traces of herself in the crime scene.

The only other person who had the same number of prints on the scene was Byakuya Kuchiki.

Analysis for the leftovers of the meal -- including broiled chicken with fresh herbs, a clear broth with three types of mushrooms, fresh fruit and salad -- was inconclusive for trances of arsenic, too.

Why did Ichigo get the horrible feeling that the white powder found on the plates was planted afterwards?

The numerous crime scene photographs revealed nothing except for a bedroom, otherwise kept sparkling clean, suddenly disrupted by violent illness. The traces of some possible attempts at resuscitation remained. Someone in the family was a hypochondriac for the room was set up like a mini-hospital, complete with its own oxygen tank, defibrillator, and a glass cabinet full of unused over-the-counter drugs, syringes, acupuncture needles, and the like. Were these drugs ever tested to see if their contents had matched their labels? Not exactly… due to the speed of the trial, a pharmacist was called in to identify the drugs and nothing was out of the ordinary.

The young inspector could not believe it. He had been attending the trial when he could, but he assumed he merely missed all the presentation of technical evidence. There had been times that he couldn't even watch, due to his own workload and Judge Yamamoto's constant closure of the courtroom due to the curious crowd.

Ichigo had a gut feeling there wasn't any damning evidence against Rukia Kuchiki. But the truth was even more laughable. There was not a thread of proof that Rukia Kuchiki had ever purchased arsenic or even knew its effect on the human body.

There was no proof of the use of arsenic either, except for some nail and hair clippings showing that both Hisana and Rukia had traces of the poison in their system. A certain Dr. Iemura Yasochika, who signed the death certificate, admitted that several other poisons could cause the same symptoms.

The King's Counsel had taken the evidence of poison in Rukia's hair as her death warrant and had harped on that point alone. Arsenic is a poison that allows would-be murderers to immune themselves from a lethal dosage. Poisoners build up a tolerance for it by consuming it over a long period of time. So when the right moment comes along, the poisoner can share a heavily spiked meal with the victim and escape death, and often, suspicion.

Obviously, the King's Counsel took the arsenic in Rukia's hair as a sign that she had deadly intent against her sister.

The inspector shook his head. It didn't make sense to him that Hisana had signs of _perennial_ arsenic consumption, too. Why would Rukia let Hisana build immunity to the poison, if the sister was the real target?

This shouldn't make sense to anyone else either, Ichigo decided.

But what if… both sisters were trying to build immunity because they were planning to poison someone else in the family?

It has been known that some would-be murders have died while dosing themselves with the poison. Not everyone had the same tolerance for the element. What could have been a preparatory dose that did not affect Rukia could still possibly kill Hisana.

_What if the Kuchiki sisters were out to poison Byakuya Kuchiki? _

Ichigo shook his head. No. That didn't make sense either. Hisana Kuchiki was a paragon of virtue. Even himself, who never read the society pages, knew all about her charities. And Hisana just found Rukia a year before her death. Hisana's famous waist-length hair had arsenic down to the very end of its strands -- implying a longer period of constant poisoning.

Only a full autopsy report, Ichigo mused, could decide what really killed Hisana. The presence of arsenic should show up in a person's stomach and liver -- if not the presence of other poisons as well.

He tried to remember any of the barristers mentioning the autopsy report in court and drew a blank. Ichigo then eagerly pawed through the folders and pulled out the folder labeled "Official Autopsy Findings."

It was empty except for one flimsy piece of paper.

_Inspector Kira's request for an autopsy denied… the barristers of Byakuya Kuchiki furnished the inspector with Hisana Kuchiki's last will and testament. It stated the deceased's wishes to be buried immediately after death. The document further stipulated that there would be no public viewing of her body, and no one, save that of her immediate family, should tend to her remains. _

_The samples of blood and urine grudgingly allowed by the Kuchiki family to be extracted from Hisana's body were inconclusive, except for a slight oddity in nicotine levels that Dr. Iemura Yasochika, the Seireitei medical examiner, attributed to second-hand smoke. _

Ichigo stared at the words on the page in disbelief. _This is fucking unbelievable,_ he raged.

How could Inspector Kira not press the issue? Did he really think it was enough to be satisfied with blood and urine samples? Ichigo bit down on his lip so hard he cut himself.

_Fuck. Fuckity fuck. _

Most likely Inspector Kira already fought with the Kuchiki family just to get the evidence they surrendered. After hearing of Byakuya Kuchiki's reputation, he had to applaud his fellow inspector for getting that much out of the clan.

Ichigo was pissed. _Isn't it strange,_ he thought, _that his Sereitei colleague didn't take up the matter with his Chief Inspector? A case like this needed a full autopsy. How could Inspector Kira not find the clause in Hisana's will a bit suspicious? Was he bribed to let the matter slide uninvestigated?_

"Damn it," Ichigo muttered. "There's something so fishy about this. I want to hit something."

Someone was hiding the truth and covering up his tracks. Ichigo Kurosaki had a good idea who it was.

He needed to confront Byakuya Kuchiki. Perhaps the man was trying to rid himself of both his generous wife and his new dependent.

_What exactly was he doing the night his wife died? _

But first, Ichigo punched the wall again. "Asano," he snarled. "I have something for you to do for me."

The sergeant's head slowly peered over the cubicle wall. "Yes, Inspector?" the poor guy squeaked. Looking at Ichigo's blazing eyes, he didn't really have a choice in the matter.


	7. Interlude 4 5: Judge Yamamoto's chambers

_**Interlude 4.5: At the Chambers of Judge Yamamoto, All Souls Square, Tsubaki-dai District**_

* * *

"Sir, I got a request for you to sign, it's from the Met." The bailiff coughed in a semi-authoritative manner. "They want a subpoena to exhume the remains of Hisana Kuchiki. The new inspector on the case thinks the cause of death is inconclusive without a full autopsy."

Judge Yamamoto cocked open an eye. He hated it when someone from the Met bothered his after-lunch nap. "They should have thought of that before they released the body to the family," he murmured.

"Your honor," the bailiff said cautiously, "I believe the family never released the body to the Met in the first place. And King's Counsel had opted for a speedy trial. It is not my place to say so, but certain irregularities have occurred."

Judge Yamamoto considered his huge, usually taciturn bailiff for a moment. _Hatch could have gone up in the world,_ he thought, _but he was the type of man who was satisfied to be at the sidelines. _

"Send in the fool who filed that request," he said.

After a few moments, the rookie made his appearance in front of the testy judge, who looked even more terrifying, dressed down in his undershirt and boxer shorts. His court robes hung from a hook behind him.

"Sergeant Asano, your honor," he said, trying to hide his sweaty palms.

"What's the purpose of all this? Does the King's Counsel or the defense even know about this preposterous request? I can't believe the audacity of ⎯ "

"I don't know, sir," Keigo faltered. "I was just asked to present this to you and to wait for your response." He handed over more papers for the judge to inspect.

A few tense moments passed as Judge Yamamoto tried to decipher Ichigo's scrawls on the form.

"I have to deny this request," Judge Yamamoto snapped. "Mere suspicion of other means of death is not enough to dig up someone. Tell Inspector Kurosaki that if he gets a waiver from a Kuchiki family member, and I might reconsider the matter."

Keigo nodded dumbly. "Yes, your honor."

The judge stroked his chin. "And tell that fool of an inspector that the accused doesn't count under the circumstances."

The sergeant fled the chambers. He didn't want to be the one to break the news to Inspector Kurosaki.


	8. Chapter 5: Penitence Detention Facility

_**Chapter 5: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hills**_

* * *

Ichigo was waiting in the visitor's lounge of the detention center. A traffic jam downtown contrived to make him later than he wanted to be, but he still got there in good time. The mid-afternoon light was bright and the weather was balmy. He felt oddly excited, even giddy. Ichigo was not one to force his attentions on anyone before -- much less someone accused of a horrible crime.

Even if Penitence was a minimum security facility, Ichigo was still patted down by a tired-looking guard equipped with a sling bag. His lips were pursed, as if he was weighing something in his mind.

"What?" Ichigo demanded, as he handed over his standard Glock 17 for safekeeping. "I don't have all the time in the world, buddy."

"We like to take our time here at Penitence," the guard spoke up. "Are you in a hurry?"

"Yeah," the inspector tried to rein in his impatience. Ichigo didn't come here to chat with Rukia's gaoler; he came to chat with _her_. "The person I need to talk to -- well, she doesn't have all the time in world until her re-trial starts. So yeah, time is of the essence."

"Is that so." The young guard finally finished his inspection, and took possession of the contents of Ichigo's pockets, including the tape recorder he had just bought. "Sir, no items of any kind are allowed in the visitor's room," he explained apologetically. "You'll get these back when you leave. It's policy, just in case the inmates get weird ideas."

The frown was forthcoming, but Ichigo controlled his features. He could not imagine this particular inmate to start a hostage situation with a tape recorder. Still, there could always be a first time.

The guard -- the embroidered nameplate on his uniform said _H. Yamada_ -- led Ichigo to the visitor's area. "You have thirty minutes. There is always a guard watching on the other side of the wall. You are not allowed to address the other inmates or their visitors. Please remember to keep your hands on the table where they are visible, and you are not allowed to touch each other. Repeated failure to comply may revoke the prisoner's visitation privileges."

Revoke the prisoner's privileges. Ichigo knew all these rules but he never paid much attention to them before. He wondered how he would feel, if freedoms he had always taken for granted were suddenly labeled privileges.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to contemplate such things.

Ichigo sat down in the sparsely furnished room. He was more nervous than he cared to admit. Despite the circumstances he felt he was on a first date. There were two or three other inmates in the area, already deep in quiet conversation with their visitors. Ichigo could easily identify the one-way mirror and the location of a discreet security camera. He placed his hands on the table and looked around. The only difference between this room and the one used for interrogation of suspects down at the Met headquarters was the television that was left blaring in the corner. Most likely the guards also used the room during lights out, there was no other reason to account for its presence. Right now, the television was used as a means to disguise confidential exchanges. Ichigo knew that sort of trick never really worked, but he was amused by the effort.

"…_The Commonwealth of Karakura, touted as "the Gateway to Asia" by the glossy tourist brochures, is a handful of islands located south of Taiwan and north of the Philippines. In the middle of the South China Sea and the Pacific Ocean, the Commonwealth is unique for its growing number of islands due to volcanic eruptions, with the island locally known as Hueco Mundo being the largest of the newly formed landmasses, the direct result of the Great Earthquake of 1927._

_Despite its strategic location, Karakura has never figured greatly in world events, preferring to stay a secluded and select destination for the well traveled. Briefly colonized by England in the 18th century, it was always a hub for traders from Spain, China, and India while becoming the new home for several Japanese clans seeking to enlarge their fiefdoms during the late Edo period. Occupied by the imperial forces during World War II, Karakura gained its autonomy upon the signing of the Treaty of Seireitei. The Commonwealth is led by its symbolic head of state, the reclusive monarch known as…" _

"Are they still showing that history reel? They haven't changed that since I was in high school."

Ichigo was startled. Her voice was velvety and deep; it was not quite what he imagined.

Rukia Kuchiki sat down across him, and the guard tried to hide his approval before moving away.

"I think it's stuck on the government channel," Ichigo finally answered. Why did he sound apologetic for the facilities? "Someone must have taken away the remote control."

"…and you know this because…?"

"I use my eyes and ears very well." Ichigo pointed casually the control panel across the room. "See? Someone jammed it."

She seemed puzzled that he would notice such a silly thing. "Seems like you use your mouth a lot, too."

The sarcasm in her voice was mild but biting. Ichigo turned his attention to the woman sitting opposite him.

This was going to be difficult; Ichigo didn't realize how lovely she was. The distance kept between him and Rukia Kuchiki in the courthouse was apparently too much. Her hair had a shiny rich gloss, and her skin was translucent and clear. In fact, she was in much better condition than the last time Ichigo saw her in court almost a week ago.

_The offending red collar was still in the way, of course. Wouldn't it be so nice to rip it off and gently fondle and nip her neck?_

Ichigo unconsciously shook himself. He had no idea where that lustful thought came from.

She surveyed him with slight distaste. Obviously Rukia could tell what had momentarily crossed his mind, or perhaps it was on all the minds of her visitors. She had struck up a tentative friendship with one of the nicer guards. He was the one who to screened the worst of the curious scumbags. Female inmates who figure in national scandals get a lot of unwanted male attention, Hanatarou explained.

Hanatarou went through the trouble of weeding out the nasty and obscene messages that came in her "fan" mail. If he was actually paid to do this, however, he never said. Rukia took it as a matter of fact that the facility would open everyone's mail.

Why _this_ visitor got through Hanatarou's radar, Rukia Kuchiki would like to find out. There had been another inspector from the Met whom Hanatarou didn't let through. Something about the man's wide smiles made him wary. Rukia briefly considered that maybe Hanatarou had a crush on her, but she brushed that thought aside.

The orange-haired officer's mouth was still agape.

"Why are you here?" she said curtly to stop his staring.

"I'm here to ask you some follow-up questions."

"Who sent you? Are you really with the police? I don't think this is official, because the Met informs my barrister, Mr. Kanonji, ahead of time. I don't answer any questions without him." She paused, and it was pregnant with meaning. "Or are you just another pervert who gets off staring at helpless women?"

"No one sent me," Ichigo's face reddened. "The guard can verify that my badge is real. I came because I think you need me."

"You're mistaken, I have no need of the Met. Haven't you inspectors done enough damage?"

The bitterness in Rukia's tone was unmistakable.

"Look, the original inspectors who worked your case," Ichigo explained, "They screwed it up big time. I want to help you by getting to the truth."

"The last time someone said I should just tell them the truth," Rukia arched an eyebrow, "I found myself shackled with handcuffs and being called a liar."

"I'm not here to pick a fight," Ichigo raised his voice. "But I won't stand for being compared to other officers who were possibly incompetent." Rukia opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. "Nobody asked me to be here, but I am anyway. And_ I am_ trying to find new evidence, on my own time. So if don't want my help -- if you don't care about finding who really killed your sister -- if you really trust your brother-in-law -- "

Self-doubt crept into her sullen expression. Her arms were still crossed, as if she was protecting herself from his gaze from across the table, but her face had already crumbled into an ashen sadness.

"I didn't mean to be rude," she finally forced herself to speak. "Please sit down."

Ichigo hadn't realized that he was so worked up that he was half out of his chair. He sat back down again.

"Please understand, I feel as if I've been under duress for the past month." It wasn't an apology – it was an explanation. "I have been made to feel that there is no one left to trust." Unconsciously, Rukia fingered the collar on her neck. "And I don't like feeling as if I belong in a zoo."

"Understood." Ichigo wanted to kick himself for starting off on the wrong foot. "I'm not a sensitive guy. I will try to keep these things in mind." He took a deep breath. There was no way tactful way to ask what really bothered him, and so Ichigo didn't mince his words. "Do you think Byakuya Kuchiki set you up?"

"I don't know," Rukia reluctantly admitted. Apparently she thought about that too, but had never verbalized her doubts. "He's paying for the barristers but he has never come to see me. I know he used his connections to get me placed here, instead of the cramped cell in the Seireitei outpost or the maximum security gaol in Hueco Mundo. Mr. Kanonji managed to argue that this location is best for me, since the trial was held here and not in Seireitei." There was a fleeting spark of amusement in her glance. "I fear that was the last convincing argument Mr. Kanonji was able to make on my behalf."

Ichigo managed a small smile but his mind was distracted. His blood chilled at the thought of this small woman being sentenced to Hueco Mundo. Everybody from the mainland avoided all mention of the island northernmost of the Karakura archipelago. It was harsh and desolate. The landscape was daunting, with an active volcanic crater constantly spewing lava and metamorphic rock, slowly changing the island's shape over the years. One side of the island housed the national mental asylum; the other side contained the hardened convicts. Death was supposed to be preferable to a mandatory confinement there.

Rukia noticed his intent expression and continued. "Only Grandfather Kuchiki visits me here, and even he stopped coming. I think… Nii-sama forbade him to see me."

Ichigo waited to hear more.

"When my sister asked me to stay with them, the only thing Nii-sama said was, I should quit my job. No sister-in-law of his should need to work. I thought he was being kind to Hisana, but I realized it was also… pride." Rukia checked herself.

"You have a job?" Ichigo was surprised. "It's not mentioned in your file."

Rukia flushed indignantly. "Of course I have a job! I supported myself since I was released from the orphanage at the age of seventeen! First I did lots of odd jobs but I finally got work I liked. Have you never heard of my book, _The Adventures of Chappy the Bunny_?" Ichigo shook his head. "It's a picture book for young children. The editors – they like my drawings. I was commissioned to make a sequel. But maybe the books won't sell anymore..." she seemed more sad about the fate of her sequel than her own situation.

Ichigo wished he could record this conversation. He would like to check her work out and he knew he was bound to forget the title she just mentioned. _If only,_ he thought to himself darkly, _as supplementary research – for her psychological profiling. _

"I don't want to be thought ungrateful, Inspector, so I've been trying to live up to the family expectations, but -- " her sigh was audible. "As you see, it's been a failure."

Ichigo tapped his forehead. He wasn't sure if they had a lot of time left. "Do you think Byakuya set you up?" he repeated the question.

"I don't know," she answered. " A man like Nii-sama, he wouldn't marry just anyone. Most likely he was pressured to marry someone posh, like a Shiba or a Shihoin -- " here Ichigo smirked, having never thought of his boss as posh " -- and my sister was nobody. Hisana made that clear to me. She felt very guilty we were separated as children, but it's not her fault that the family that adopted her could only take in one. They weren't on the level of the Kuchikis, not in a thousand years."

"So Byakuya married for love but his treatment of you – taking care of the barristers, using his influence to get you into a minimum security facility – this is merely out of obligation."

Rukia flinched. "If you must put it that way."

His eyes narrowed with unmistakable passion. "Now that we got that clear, maybe you can help me. Do you trust your barristers?"

"Not all the time."

"Did you tell them everything you know?"

"Some things," she shrugged, "They never asked."

"Tell me," he said, "Did they ask you why you didn't bring your sister to the hospital?"

Rukia looked uncomfortable. "But Hisana didn't want to be brought to the hospital anymore."

"What! Your sister is violently ill, vomiting blood, delirious, with an abnormal blood pressure, and you don't stop to bring her to the emergency room against her objections? Her seizures alone should have -- "

Her eyes blazed and stared Ichigo down. "You don't understand! Hisana hated the hospital. She wanted to die in peace. I thought she was just having another one of her attacks. She was like that almost every week since she found me. One year together, and we spent half of our time in the sick room."

Ichigo could not hold that gaze. There was too much pain there. He looked away, ashamed that he was pushing her.

Rukia continued. "Right after finding her, I had to immune myself to the idea I would lose her any moment. Not many people know but my sister was very ill. That mini-hospital in the house? That was equipped for Hisana's comfort but everyone was told, including the police, that it belonged to Grandfather Kuchiki." Rukia closed her eyes, as if remembering something painful. "Hisana hid her pain very well when she had social functions to attend, but the truth of the matter is, Hisana was dying of a dreadful disease. She tried various remedies to ease her suffering. She didn't even tell me what it was. She wanted to save Nii-sama from the shame."

_So this is the real reason why it was stipulated in Hisana's will that no one was to touch her remains after death, except immediate family members. How convenient for her murderer. His misdeeds would go undiscovered if her corpse was never embalmed or autopsied. _

"Inspector Kurosaki?" she asked. "Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes, I did, I was just thinking…." Ichigo cleared his throat and then changed the topic. "Why are you telling me this now?"

She looked down at his large hands. They had remained flat on the table, motionless, since they began their interview. "You asked me if I trusted Nii-sama," she whispered. "Nobody ever asked me if I doubted him before."

Ichigo was irritated. "Nii-sama. You keep referring to Byakuya Kuchiki as Nii-sama. What does that mean, exactly?"

"Older esteemed brother," Rukia answered. "I've never called him anything else. Hisana asked me to call him that. It honors their family traditions. One of the last things she begged of me was to be obedient to the family since they were all I had left."

Ichigo didn't want to point out the painful irony of her words. Rukia didn't seem to notice her own lapse, as she rambled on. "The Kuchiki clan is the first important Japanese clan to settle in the Commonwealth in the 17th century. They predate everyone else – but they're all related – the Shihoin, the Aizen, the Shiba, the Abarai. All these families originate from the same _han_. Perhaps it didn't occur to you that the Kurosaki might be related to them, too?"

The inspector felt that this speculation was beyond the point. "I don't bother much with ancestry," Ichigo stated.

"Maybe you should," Rukia retorted. "A lot of things problems in the present can be traced to the wrong-doings in the distant past."

"Time's almost up, sir," Hanatarou materialized by their table.

Ichigo looked up and nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow again, Rukia." He looked at her with a fleeting ghost of a smile. "Better think of things to help me get you out of this mess."

Rukia blinked. After all her revelations, she seemed to grow remote once more. "Does my full cooperation mean you get to call me by my first name, Inspector?"

He considered that for a moment, as he stopped to turn by the door. "I guess it does. But don't worry -- you can call me anything you want."

As the heavy metal bars slammed shut between them, Rukia Kuchiki was left to consider into the empty space before her. She didn't have time to think of a witty retort.

Another guard hustled her back into her holding cell.

As she heard the repugnant sound of the gaoler's key turning in the lock, Rukia lay down upon her bed. She couldn't see out her barred window even if she tried. It was too high up against the wall but it still filtered in the glow of the fading sunset. The natural light was still more pleasant than the harsh electric lights of the facility after dark.

They would be turning the lights on soon, and she wouldn't be able to escape the unpleasantness of the drab concrete walls that was choking her spirit.

Rukia didn't want to disappoint herself -- she had been at the point of despair and this well-meaning young inspector didn't seem to know what he was doing -- but still, against her better judgment, a tiny flicker of hope began to grow.

Perhaps Rukia Kuchiki wasn't totally forsaken by the world, after all.

* * *

_I haven't had the time to reply, but I'm really grateful to receive so many kind comments and reviews so far. Thanks very much. :) So stay tuned for the new chapters next week._

_And yes, I must thank Adam and wickedliz for playing the grammar police to these chapters._


	9. Interlude 5 5: a moment with Shunsui

_**Interlude 5.5: At the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd., Mashiba District**_

* * *

Shunsui realized he was yet to be freed from the bother that was the phony land titling case in Seireitei, and Nanao-chan said it was _his_ fault. From behind the frosted glass partition, Ukitake could hear their executive assistant give his partner a good tongue-lashing for wasting company resources.

"If you just managed to check that you had made copies of _all_ the files before you left, knowing that the information is too confidential to fax…"

Ukitake knew it wasn't the sort of tongue-lashing Shunsui liked best.

"What's this receipt for 'meals' at the Death and the Maiden, anyway? I've heard about that nightspot before, and no, you can't list your after-hour boozing as part of your per diem!"

Ukitake merely called up the marina, chuckling to himself.

The scolding came to an end. Shunsui burst though the door, grumbling. "Tell me once more, Ukitake," he demanded, "If I am such the incompetent bastard she says I am, why am I still your partner? And more to the point, if she's such hot stuff, why doesn't she set up her own agency?"

The man behind the desk smiled beatifically. "You're here because you're a founding member of the agency," he replied. "You know I would do anything to exchange my work behind the desk for yours, but my health doesn't permit it. And Miss Nanao is efficient… but she's still learning the ropes."

Shunsui nodded despondently so Ukitake threw him a sop for his feelings. Perhaps Nanao had been more harsh than usual. The forgotten files was a mistake anyone could have made. "Besides, Miss Nanao will never leave us. She likes you too much to do that."

The frosted glass partition rattled. "I heard that, sir!" Nanao called out.

The two men grinned at each other. Shunsui then relented. "Okay, I'm off to Seireitei again, I believe. See you in a few days."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Ukitake said pleasantly. "I chartered the last ferry available. And take Miss Nanao with you. Teach her something useful on the field, for once."

Shunsui's mood visibly perked up. A slow smile spread across his face. "It seems that you are coming with me, young lady," Ukitake heard him coo the moment the door was shut.


	10. Chapter 6: Kuchiki Towers, Wakame Road

_**Chapter 6: Kuchiki Towers, Wakame Road corner 6th Street, Sakura-Bashi District**_

* * *

It was past ten o'clock when Byakuya Kuchiki heard a soft tapping on his double doors. He permitted entry. Most likely it was just the staff wishing him goodnight. Instead the housemaid looked hesitant.

"Sir, a visitor for you," she murmured. "He has no card on him, but it's Inspector Kurosaki from the Met. He says he has a few questions for you."

Byakuya yawned. "I believe I gave them all the information they need, Nemu," he answered. "Have Ikkaku send him away."

Before Nemu could close off the heavy double doors to Byakuya's office, however, she heard the sounds of two men arguing. "What in earth…"

For Ichigo had pushed his way in, with Ikkaku practically dragging him down with each step. "I said, buddy, the boss just left for Seireitei in his private speedboat, he doesn't want to be disturbed by the likes of you -- "

"Left an hour ago, huh?" Ichigo shook off the bodyguard, glaring at him. "Perhaps I should haul you in the Met for questioning, too, you bald punk. You're trying to obstruct an officer of the law in the course of his duties."

Ikkaku looked towards Byakuya for directions, but none was forthcoming. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, boss," Ikkaku stammered.

Byakuya barely glanced up from the stack of papers he was perusing on his desk. "It's disrespectful to treat my staff like dirt, and to ignore the request of my family's barristers to channel all communications through them," he said coldly. "I have no further statement to give to the police about my sister-in-law's case."

"Oh yeah?" Ichigo stepped away from Ikkaku's reach. "And that's for me to say, Mr. Kuchiki."

"Why are you here?" Byakuya's face was expressionless. "I can easily have you investigated by the Commission of Internal Affairs for trespassing on my property and forcing your way here without a warrant."

Ikkaku stepped closer to Ichigo, and Nemu stood by the door, waiting. But Ichigo was not to be deterred. Idle threats could not harm him. If he managed to bribe the green-haired receptionist at the lobby with a box of chocolates to let him in, Ichigo wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste. _God only knows,_ Ichigo thought darkly, _where this man might fly off to tomorrow._

"Yeah, I have lots of questions," Ichigo said. "But they don't have anything to do directly with Rukia Kuchiki." In response to the raised eyebrow, Ichigo bluffed. "I have come to ask about Benihime."

Byakuya finally glanced up. He was not surprised to recognize the orange-haired inspector from his occasional attendance at the courtroom. "Nemu, you may go. Ikkaku, close the door and wait outside."

When the doors closed, Byakuya swiveled his chair around and reached for the crystal decanter on the sideboard. "What makes you think I have anything to do with Kisuke Urahara?" he said, as single malt whiskey splashed into a glass.

Ichigo could smell the potency of the liquor but knew he was not about to be offered anything to drink. He wasn't invited to sit either, so he stood, examining the antiques that furnished the private office. Everything was luxurious and manly, from the buttery soft leather seats down to the wooden box of Havana cigars beside the decanter. _So that's what caused Hisana's secondhand smoke woes,_ Ichigo thought idly. He turned to the matter at hand. "Urahara's one of your tenants, is he not?" Byakuya nodded, his glass still tilted towards his lips. "Why do you suppose he tried to pass me information regarding your sister's case?"

"Kisuke Urahara was once a brilliant scientist," Byakuya said, putting down his glass again without having drank from it. "He rents two buildings from me, one in West Rukongai and another here at the very end of 12th Street. He makes candy now." A flicker of amusement batted through the man's eyes. "He has put his extensive knowledge of anatomy and chemistry to such an innocent diversion. My wife and my sister-in-law were quite fond of his chocolates. In fact, that's where they accidentally bumped into each other -- they were both reaching for the last box of rabbit-shaped chocolate cherries."

Ichigo was not to be sidetracked by this delightful little anecdote. It was absurd for a man such as Byakuya Kuchiki to care about these things. "But Kisuke Urahara still knows enough science to fabricate poisons, on commission for a person such as yourself."

"I can hardly answer to what Urahara knows and does not know," the businessman didn't miss a beat. "Nor can I say as to what he does in his spare time when he's not tending to his profitable store. He acquits himself as a model tenant. That's all I require of him."

Ichigo paused by one side table that held nothing but a single pillowed box. In it were the relics of the Kuchiki family -- a strange heirloom, wrought in white gold with fine markings. _So this is the famous Kuchiki kenseikan,_ Ichigo almost whistled. _It's that headpiece worn by the head of the clan._ It rested on a fine, spidery white scarf. Ichigo leaned over it, seemingly in awe. His hand quickly moved on top of the relic, examining it very closely and tugged at its joints.

"Don't touch that, inspector," Byakuya's voice almost lost its cool.

"There was just some dust on the surface, that's all," Ichigo shrugged. He pretended to lose interest in it. "I take it you don't wear it often."

"Only for social occasions," Byakuya said. "It would do no good to wear out such a priceless artifact. I wore it last week."

_Good,_ Ichigo thought. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to ask you about Hisana's will, too." He made up his mind to sit down, whether he was invited to or not. "If anything was to happen to Rukia, it says that everything reverts back to you."

Byakuya hesitated before answering. "Yes, everything reverts back to the family," he admitted.

"Don't you think it strange, that someone known for supporting charitable causes would have a clause like that in her will?"

"It should not surprise anyone," Byakuya answered. "My corporation always did the financial plans for Hisana's projects. The foundation established in her name is no different."

"And regarding your own will -- who is your beneficiary?"

Byakuya seemed to stare deep into the depths of his bourbon glass. "In the absence of a Kuchiki heir, some distant cousins may come into small cash inheritance. All other assets, like most of the real estate and the Seireitei resort, will eventually benefit the Kuchiki Group."

Ichigo attempted anew to shake something out of him. "What happened to the housemaid, Momo Hinamori?"

Byakuya gave an elegant shrug. "I don't manage such things as the hiring and firing of all my staff, especially in my Seireitei home… but I do believe she quit a week ago. The stress of appearing in court was too much for her. She went back to stay with her relatives. I believe the courts know about her exact whereabouts."

"Not too bothered by it, aren't you? I mean, the key witness to the case…"

Byakuya bristled. "If you're insinuating anything, you are highly mistaken. Hinamori was in my employ, and she left. Her position was easily filled. Witness or not, I have not anything to do with her."

Ichigo tried to control his fury. This man's attitude towards others irked him… people were objects to ignore or discard as he alone saw fit. No wonder why Rukia thought he was a stranger.

He wanted to get out of this man's despicable presence as soon as possible. "Actually I also came here to ask you to sign this waiver, giving your permission for an exhumation." Ichigo pulled out the papers he earlier fielded to Judge Yamamoto.

"No." The syllable was forceful and conveyed all his hidden outrage. "I cannot do that. I already allowed the police to collect what they needed. I will not tolerate the desecration of Hisana's remains. Anything else?"

"It's worth a shot," Ichigo grinned, undeterred, "But I'd like some of your fingernail clippings, too."

"Do you have a warrant to collect such evidence?" Byakuya was waiting. "I think not, since you didn't present one immediately upon your arrival. You've been asking me random questions since you got here, inspector. I suggest you leave now."

Ichigo was full of empty bravado as the double doors swung open for him from the other side. "See you in court in three weeks, Mr. Kuchiki."

Ikkaku escorted him out the building. "I'd be careful about strangers in the dark tonight," he warned, almost gleefully.

"Shut up, punk," Ichigo said, pissed.

Across the street from the Kuchiki Towers, in a secluded, windless spot, Ichigo wanted to punch the wall again. Somehow, he knew things weren't as going as well as they should be.

Instead of releasing his anger on some innocent brinks, Ichigo instead drew out the single strand of black hair he had plucked off the kenseikan. He wasn't sure if it was Byakuya Kuchiki's hair, but in length and color it was close enough. Ichigo stuffed it into an evidence envelope and sealed it.

Ichigo got on his cell phone. "Hey, Sergeant Asano. You on duty tonight? Good. Is there anyone over at the laboratory? I got something that needs analyzing… what do you mean they they were all ferried off to Rukongai on some urgent case? Hell," he cursed under his breath. "But _this_ is urgent! I guess I have to send this to a private lab. Thanks anyway."

As Ichigo moved to hit another number on speed dial, he sensed a presence coming behind him. Instinctively, his hand moved for his concealed weapon. "Don't move any closer to me, buddy."

Ichigo whirled around to see a stooped old man, taking shelter in the shadows. His eyes were vaguely familiar but the rest of his features were obscured with deep wrinkles. Ichigo eyed the man and his heavy cane warily.

"I overheard what you had to say to my grandson," was all he said. "I want to sign that waiver."

"Who are you?" Ichigo demanded.

"The girl at reception alerted me," he said, impatient with these explanations. "And Ikkaku's a good boy, he let me listen. Come on, sonny, I don't have much time. Give me a pen before I'm missed."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, as he watched the old man's fingers tremble slightly as he signed his name.

"For the same reasons as you." Ginrei Kuchiki's expression was inscrutable.


	11. Interlude 6 2: Tape Recorder, Part I

_**Interlude 6.2: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hill****s**_

_a.k.a. The Sub-plot about the Tape Recorder, Part I_

* * *

Night had fallen several hours ago. The evening was filled with the sounds of inmates, some sleeping soundly, some restless, and others speaking to themselves in the dark.

The static bars on her floor shifted as a slim shadow filled in the spaces.

"Miss Rukia?" the voice was hesitant.

"Is that you, Hanatarou?" she was surprised. It was after lights out, and suddenly she was afraid. Male guards were not allowed in the female holding areas.

_What did he want with her? _

"It's against the rules, but…" his voice squeaked, and it was as if he was more afraid that she was. "The inspector this afternoon, he left his tape recorder with me."

"Tape recorder?" Rukia echoed, confused.

"He asked no, he begged me to give it to you. He said it would help him solve your case." Hanatarou sounded dubious. "Hide it very well, Miss Rukia, if you dare use it at all. We'll both get into major trouble with the Warden."

Rukia then saw his hand place an object inside her cell, just a foot into the shadows made by the bed posts.

"I have to hurry," he hissed. "The guard on this floor is returning."

Rukia didn't dare breathe as she waited for the sound of a muffled door being shut at the far end of the corridor.

The sounds of the night were long and magnified; Rukia continued to wait. She could barely make out the carelessly opened security gate swinging open at the other end. Petrified, she counted the footfalls of the night guard. This particular one was not very thorough. The guard's shadow stopped, one cell short of her own.

Satisfied with the cursory inspection, the night guard left through the same gate she entered.

Rukia let out a sigh of relief.

Only then did she get up from her bed and picked up the tape recorder.

Without even a match, she could hardly make out the tiny item, and the little cassette it contained.

_What if it doesn't have batteries?_ Rukia thought, bemused.

She turned to check… and started to laugh to herself. Tucked into the recesses of the battery compartment was a tiny scrap of paper. It was Ichigo's scribbled questions for her.

She squinted in the moonlight, trying to make out the words. Finally, she felt she could risk it.

Using a thin pillow to muffle the odd sound, she hit the "record" button.

_My name is Rukia. The orphanage told me I was born in Rukongai, but Hisana later told me that this was a lie._

And so she seemingly spoke to herself, just like all the others, deep into the night.


	12. Interlude 6 5: dawn, Kawazaki district

_**Interlude 6.5: somewhere in the Kawazaki District of mainland Karakura **_

* * *

Two men were sitting on a bench, ostensibly watching the sunrise. One was feeding the ducks in the little man-made pond in the center of town. It was too early for the fashionable shops and handicraft stores to open, although the sidewalk vendors were beginning to emerge, drowsy-eyed and only wishing for bed.

The shorter man was dressed as a tourist complete with a gaudy floral shirt and bermuda shorts too big for his thin frame; the other was a redhead, highly decorated with tattoos.

"You're late," the redhead addressed the ducks.

The man in the floral shirt didn't look up from the bread he was crumbling into bits. "Give me a break, I came over from you-know-where. It's not the easiest stretch of open sea to navigate. Especially when you want me to travel by the coastline, so I never lose my cell phone signal. "

The redhead grunted and let it pass. "One of the inspectors on the Karakura force has been making inquiries," he observed. "If I wasn't here to keep an eye on your place of work…"

"He will be reprimanded soon," the man with the floral shirt said soothingly. "I know of whom you speak of. He'll be forced to go on administrative leave. I will make the call today."

"Good. You realize that there is no turning back despite the delay presented by the court."

"I knew that from the start," his companion replied. "We've made a mess of things, haven't we?"

"Speak for yourself," the redhead snorted. "In a parallel universe, perhaps, things can be done differently."

The man in the floral shirt considered that. He wasn't keen for all that different time-space continuum crap. He was a realist. "Will I take care of that other minor matter?"

"However you see fit," the redhead replied. "Perhaps you can meet them half-way."

The man in the floral shirt laughed. "Seeing that I'm already here, that might be a bit of problem. But I will manage." He stopped to throw another crust to a waiting duck. "You certainly ask so much of me."

"I'd like to see _you_ try to set up a second attack on -- "

"Now, now, that's no one's fault." The man in the floral shirt sobered up for a moment. "You know I can't break my cover at work yet. Are you indeed ready to lead this coup?"

The redhead smiled. "They will all be dead before they realize what hit them."

"You seem vindictive."

"Of course I am," he reflected. "I hate it when people get in my way. If we succeed, we will have everything we truly merit. And no one will ever think of us as dogs again."

"We will succeed," the man in the floral shirt encouraged him, leaving no room for doubt with his words. "It's all just a matter of time."

"Time and water," the redhead laughed.


	13. Chapter 7: Return to Penitence

_**Chapter 7: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hills**_

* * *

"I got good news for you, Rukia," Ichigo said, the moment she slid into the seat opposite him.

"Fast work… Inspector," she said.

"I thought I said you could call me anything you like?" he grinned. Only a day had passed, and today he felt remarkably upbeat. "I'm sick of all this _Inspector_ business. That's what everyone calls me, even when I'm not on duty."

"Okay… Ichigo," Rukia said, pausing to consider how his first name sounded on her tongue. "Should I give you a gold star for your news?"

"First let me tell it, before you get sarcastic," he grinned. "Your grandfather gave the go-ahead for Hisana's exhumation."

Rukia's face fell, and for a moment Ichigo panicked, thinking that he had made a mistake. "What's wrong?"

"Well, I can hardly be delighted at the thought of my sister being dug up from her resting place," Rukia reasoned. "Seeing that I wasn't allowed to be there at the funeral, I guess I haven't really said good-bye."

_Oh fuck._ Ichigo wanted to hit himself for his lack of tact. "Well, it's the only way to prove your innocence, you know," he said defensively. "The original blood and urine tests may have been compromised."

Rukia was unconvinced. The expression on her face said that much.

"Look, do you think your sister's spirit can rest easily if you're falsely condemned for something you didn't do? Don't give me that look."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "You're right… Ichigo."

"Thanks. I need to hear that," he gave her a thin smile, and ventured on a small joke. "Feel free to repeat that sentence any time, especially in my hearing."

She grimaced. "I'm not here to feed your ego," she declared. "Is that all the news you have for me?"

Ichigo knew he had used that bit of news as a pretext for seeing her again. But now that he was in her presence, something else did come to mind. "I need you to tell me the real deal about the Kuchiki staff," he said. "Especially Momo Hinamori. I'm having difficulty tracking her down."

Rukia was surprised. "Momo Hinamori? She was a nice girl. Her official title was housemaid, of course, but in reality she was a nurse. She looked after both Grandfather and Hisana. She was an expert at Chinese medicine and her herbal therapies eased some of Hisana's pain. She didn't have any family left, but she had a boyfriend…"

Her face seemed to lighten with the inconsequential prattle. Ichigo listened if only for the pleasure of listening to her voice, even if nothing she said seemed to be of much relevance to the case. There wasn't much he could do at the moment, anyway.

From behind the one-way mirror, Hanatarou shuffled his feet and tried not to be too pleased.

He turned to see the Warden sneak upon him unawares.

How long had she been watching the visitors room behind him? "Yamada, explain to me why you barred the chief inspector of the Seireitei outpost from interrogating this inmate, and yet let this one -- " she tapped the glass "-- get rather friendly."

Hanatarou was at a loss. "He didn't introduce himself as an inspector," he lied. "He was in mufti."

"Perhaps you should send this one away now," Warden Kotetsu suggested, as she picked up the phone. "I'll apologize to the Seireitei outpost for you, but next time be more careful about offending them."

Hanatarou agreed, and turned away shamefaced. He didn't want to be the cause for Rukia's only distraction to be snatched away so soon, but it was necessary if he wanted to keep his job… and protect her from all threats, real or imagined.


	14. Chapter 8: the Chief Inspector's office

_**Chapter 8: At the Met Headquarters, Key Street, Mashiba District**_

* * *

"Inspector Kurosaki, get your ass in my office this moment," a female voice said irritably.

It would have been a seductive line, as spoken by someone with such a smoky voice as Yoruichi Shihoin, but the tone was obviously serious.

Some of the other people in the Met looked up and then went back to work. Only Constable Chizuru -- a rookie who should know better by now -- gave Ichigo a thumb's up sign. Ichigo growled at her and entered the Chief Inspector's private office.

The Shihoin looked up from her day-old newspaper and tossed it on the table. Ichigo could just barely make out the headline under the fold: _Fishermen Make Grisly Discovery -- Headless Man Found Floating in Rukongai waters!_

She cocked a well-plucked eyebrow in his direction. The little twat wasn't paying attention to her. "I've heard from one of my colleagues that you've been poking your head in the Kuchiki case," Shihoin started, her tone low and threatening. "That's the first time I heard that you were assigned to it, Kurosaki."

Ichigo gulped. He hadn't quite planned on telling the Shihoin at all.

"Do you deny that you questioned the prisoner and accosted Byakuya Kuchiki in his own home, Kurosaki? Your actions should be subject to internal investigation! This is not to mention that little problem of paperwork for an exhumation you managed to slip past me."

The young man was silent. His boss continued. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"You can't stop me," Ichigo spoke up. "I'm checking this out on my own time, and I'm not neglecting my normal workload. If you want, I'll file a proper leave of absence, but I'm not going to --"

"Did I tell you to stop?" the Chief Inspector suddenly grinned at him.

Ichigo did a double take. "--what?"

"I merely asked you to explain yourself," Yoruichi Shihoin stretched out her legs, placing her feet on her desk. "Ever since the re-trial was ordered, I was planning to have someone re-examine the case, but did you ever bother to report to me and say you were interested in it? No. You're a horrible subordinate, and you deserve some ticking off for acting without my permission."

Ichigo almost withered at her words. Almost. "I'm not saying you are right to go behind my back. But if anyone in the Met had screwed up, leading up to a wrongful conviction, they would have hell to pay for. I don't care if the Seireitei outpost is to blame or us. A screw-up is still a Met screw-up."

He had to control his scowl from slipping into a smile. He wasn't totally off the hook yet.

"Still," Chief Inspector Shihoin continued, "I would like to know how you expect me, your boss, to save your ass from the wrath of the other chief inspectors, if I don't know your ass needs saving?"

"Er…"

"You better be grateful you didn't have to listen to Chief Inspector Gin," the Shihoin said. "His mouth was full of expletives for your interference."

Ichigo was silent.

"You better thank your friend down at Central Archives for telling me," she continued. "Too bad she was reprimanded and suspended before she came clean. But at least I had _some_ idea of what was happening before I got chewed out by a colleague."

_Fuck._ He didn't realize that he got Tatsuki into trouble. He almost forgot about the case file he got surreptitiously.

"Chief Inspector?" the question was out of his mouth before he thought it out. "How is Mr. Urahara?"

The expression in her eyes didn't change. "He's in stable condition, but still unconscious. When he wakes up, I'll interrogate him myself." She seemed secretly delighted at the prospect. She waved Ichigo off with an elegant hand. "I suppose the fools outside let slip that the exhumation is underway? No? So what are you still standing around here for? Go scoot."

"And Kurosaki?" she called after him while her office door was ajar. She raised the volume of her voice, so that everyone on the ground floor could hear her. "Stop visiting Rukia Kuchiki on a daily basis. Just catch the real culprit, will you? Warden Kotetsu says she's running a detention center, not a dating service."

Ichigo visibly withered at those words. He slammed the door shut.

Yoruichi Shihoin smiled, catlike. She always had the last word in _her_ Met.

* * *

_So how do you find the story so far...? Drop me a line and tell me what you think. XD A big thanks, by the way, for all the lovely feedback so far._

_The next three chapters (plus a few interludes) will be uploaded next week, so please stay tuned. _


	15. Interlude 8 2: Tape Recorder, Part II

_**Interlude 8.2: Midnight at the Met Office**_

_a.k.a. The Sub-plot about the Tape Recorder, Part II_

* * *

As far as Ichigo was concerned, sleep was a necessity of the body he could well do without. And yet, the ache in his limbs flat out contradicted his tired mind. _I need to do more, I need to get to the bottom of this…_

Yawn.

Ichigo almost fell out of his chair as he was filing paperwork for his regular workload. That smuggler he was trying to track was a tricky one. Then again, Ichigo's mind wasn't fully concentrated on _that_ job.

"Inspector Kurosaki? Are you okay?" a head popped out from beyond the cubicle wall.

"I'm fine," Ichigo growled, trying to pretend that no, he didn't just doze off again. He hurriedly wiped some drool with the back of his mouth.

Sergeant Asano was quiet. He walked towards the next cubicle and nudged Constable Chirizu. After a moment of silent consultation, they both walked towards Ichigo's cubicle.

"Are you ganging up on me now?" Ichigo inquired, stifling a second yawn.

"No sir," Sergeant Asano said innocently, as he held out Ichigo's jacket and draped it on the sleepy inspector's shoulders. "We wouldn't _dare_ think of doing that!"

"Definitely not, sir!" Constable Chirizu echoed as she gingerly dropped Ichigo's hat over his head. They rolled his chair towards the direction of the door.

"Hey! What are you doing, you fools --"

A sudden break made Ichigo stand up on his own accord. It was either that or fall down flat on his buttocks.

Constable Chirizu beamed as she pulled the chair away from him. "Good night sir! It's nice to see you go home after a hard's day of work. We'll call you in case anything comes up regarding your cases."

"You better have me on speed dial," he scowled at them, but it was an empty threat. Ichigo got the hint.

Sergeant Asano locked the door after him, just to be sure.

It was uncharacteristically assertive of the junior members of the force but perhaps Ichigo's own exhaustion that made it possible. It depressed Ichigo slightly as he walked home: he rarely caved into his physical needs, and yet the people around him accepted his human limitations more than he did.

_If only I could run around Karakura as a disembodied soul, doing my work at all hours of the night. Maybe then I would never need sleep. _

Ichigo stood unlocking his apartment door when his foot made contact with an unknown object against his doormat. Suspicious, he bent down to examine it before picking it up unhurriedly. He hoped it wasn't a bomb courtesy of Byakuya Kuchiki and his minions. But bombs didn't seem to be quite that man's style anyway.

Ichigo took in the package, shaking his head. He placed it on his kitchenette counter as he switched on some lights, careful not to agitate its contents.

With more illumination, Ichigo could make out the strange, cramped handwriting better. It was then he remembered seeing that handwriting just the day before, at the detention facility.

Throwing caution to the wind, he ripped the package open. Concealed considerably under huge amounts of styrofoam padding was a single audio tape. There was no message.

Ichigo chuckled to himself, slightly relieved. He scrounged around for his spare tape recorder and popped the tape in. A familiar velvety voice filled the air.

_My name is Rukia. The orphanage told me I was born in Rukongai, but Hisana later told me that this was a lie… _

Ichigo dimmed the lights and got into his comfy chair, ignoring the bed pointedly. It didn't seem right to get into bed while listening to Rukia, somehow. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked to take a girl out to dinner first before attempting any pillow talk.

_Growing up in the orphanage was not always a great experience, as there were always someone older trying to bully or tease me. For instance, there was this boy named Ichimaru who liked to pull my pigtails. He always watched out of the corner of his eyes and stole my share of dessert at dinner. I hated him very much. If I was initially very cold to you, Inspector, I have to apologize… when I was told I had a visitor I misheard your first name. I thought it was Ichimaru who was coming to taunt me once more… it was like my worst nightmare come true. I heard that he joined the police force after leaving the orphanage but I never believed it until that night... _

He relaxed and closed his eyes. So it wasn't him that repelled her. Ichigo was strangely comforted to know the real reason behind her initial glare.

_Not everyone was cruel to me at the orphanage. I had some friends but every time I grew attached to someone they would be adopted… everybody was adopted, except for me. _

_I don't see what this has to do with my sister's death but your note said you needed all the details of my life. I don't know if they will fit into this tape. How can I squeeze a lifetime into sixty minutes?_

Ichigo didn't know the answer to that question but he sure was going to try and find out. He adjusted the volume of his headphones so he could hear every whisper, every breath. He was tired, and he was beginning to lose the thread of her story, but he had to continue.

_Okay, enough rhetorical questions. You asked if anyone had a grudge against me from that time in my life. Unless playing pranks on the Superintendent would earn her eternal hatred. I think I put a mouse in her office once. I don't think I'd be framed for murder for that, because everybody put something in her office… mice, snakes, fake spiders. She'd have to frame more than a dozen orphans and surely that would cause a crime wave in Rukongai, right? _

_But there is someone else… but that comes much later. It's something I kept hidden from Hisana and Nii-sama, and since it happened before I was eighteen it never went on public record. But there was this young man who became my friend soon after I left the orphanage. His name was Kaien Shiba. _

Ichigo couldn't help it. Exhaustion and the low melody of Rukia's voice lulled him to a comfortable stupor.

When he woke up in the morning -- a scant few hours of rest -- the tape had come to a stop, his clothes smelled musty, and there was a crick in his neck from sleeping upright. Still, Ichigo felt unaccountably refreshed.

He may deny it to everyone else, but Ichigo knew he wanted to hear that voice again. He involuntarily shivered, imagining the sensation of her breath, hot and tender, blowing against his ear.

_It's time for a cold shower,_ Ichigo thought hastily. _Most definitely._


	16. Interlude 8 5: Momo's boarding house

_**Interlude 8.5: At the Flower's Edge Boarding House, District One, Rukongai**_

* * *

The air in the room was dark and stale, as if it had been left unoccupied and shut-up for too long. Momo was pleased to see that nothing among her small treasures was missing.

Momo had been on the move for several days now, and she thought she had lost them for good. She knew it wasn't a good idea, perhaps, to return here, but there were important things she needed to take with her.

She did not notice that a figure was sitting in the far corner of the room. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Momo," he said.

Momo's smile faltered. "Why did you follow me?" she asked. "How did you get in?"

"Come on, now," he said. "Why did you think you could escape? I told you to stay with the Kuchiki until it was over. Now you only draw suspicion to yourself."

"I couldn't stay there any longer," she said. "The other staff -- they were suspicious of me. Please," she was almost near tears. "I already did what you asked me to do. When are you going to release Renji?"

"As soon as it's all over," he said gently. "Come now. Are you saying you are feeling guilty? But you told Renji all about the Kuchikis, and he, in turn, told me. Don't worry, I didn't _need_ to torture it out of him." Her eyes widened at that unseen possibility, and her heart sank a little more. "Now, now. Renji only betrayed you because he talks in his sleep! Don't cry. Don't you think it was time to put Hisana out of her misery? She had been ill for so long -- and no one could suspect you of wrongdoing."

Momo wanted to believe that insidious, reasonable voice. But she felt listless. She had seen people die under her care before, of course. As a nurse, she thought she was immune to it. She could only ease pain as much she could… but no one was there to ease her own. She felt ensnared, like an animal gnawing at a limb caught in a trap, and there was no recourse but to do what was demanded. "Where is Renji?" she asked, persistent. "It's been almost a month. How do I know he's still alive?"

"Oh, he's still alive," he reassured her. "I wouldn't dare harm a strand of his red hair or else you wouldn't do what was required."

She felt wretched. A part of her didn't want to believe him… but to _not_ believe him was to know that Renji was dead, and either way she was an accessory to a horrible crime.

"I wanted to give you moral support, by showing up at the trial," he murmured, continuing as if nothing was wrong. "But I fear you would feel threatened by my appearance, instead of encouraged."

She turned away from him. She felt smothered by his overbearing presence.

"Let me prepare some tea for you," he said, trying to be kind, but she was indifferent to the suggestion. She didn't even have the strength to make a run for it as his back was turned.

He put the steaming mug in Momo's cold hands. "Drink up," he said.

She shook her head. "I'm not thirsty," she lied.

"Do you think I will poison you too? Don't be foolish." He poured himself a cup and drank the tea down to its dregs. "See? Nothing there."

Reluctantly, Momo sipped the fragant brew. Yet there was nothing wrong with it. In fact, it tasted like the tea back in the Kuchiki household. It reminded her of the Kuchiki tradition to have a special tea service on holidays, with water drawn up from the ancient family well in the courtyard. As the head of the family, Byakuya would insist on drawing the water himself, as the well was built by the first ancestor who dared lived at Seireitei instead of the Karakura mainland.

Momo could almost swear it was even the same tea leaves in her cup. She couldn't help but feel better. It was comforting and it warmed her.

Sosuke Aizen smiled.

He didn't know why he enjoyed toying with this young girl. She wasn't even in his original plans, but when he saw her… he just couldn't resist it.

In a few hours, Momo was going to die and she didn't even know it. He was going to make sure they were the best hours of her deluded little life.


	17. Chapter 9: In transit between islands

_**Chapter 9: Somewhere between the islands of Seireitei and the Karakura mainland**_

* * *

To say that Shunsui was irritated that his "date" with Nanao was ending on a sour note would be an understatement. Unfortunately for the strange man confronting them, he mistook Shunsui's langour for indifference.

It was always a miscalculation to mistake Shunsui's flippant manner for his real feelings. Such was the error the man with a gun was about to make.

"It seems to me that they got us cornered, Nanao-chan," Shunsui said apologetically. "It's unfortunate that our first date to Seireitei should end this way."

The fear in her eyes was palpable. The problem was, Shunsui knew, was that Nanao was concentrating on the barrel of the gun pointing at them instead of committing their attacker's physical details -- his height, features and distinguishing marks -- to memory. He would tell her in private later. When they got out of this alive.

_If they got out this alive_ was not a phrase Shunsui ever contemplated. There would be no compromises on this one.

"Your boss is right," the man smiled. His silvery hair glistened in the fading sunlight… and his smile. Perhaps it was the creepiest smile Shunsui ever saw on a human face. Assuming, of course, that the specimen in front of them was actually human.

"The problem with relying on the ferries," the man had said earlier, by way of introduction, "Is that they are known to capsize in the treacherous China Sea."

The stranger then smiled, his thin mouth growing into an obscene slash across the lower half of his jaw, as he twisted the neck of the oblivious ferryman before Nanao's horrified eyes.

The clean snap of the neck is what woke Shunsui up. They were supposed to be alone on this ferry ride, after all.

Shunsui cocked an eye at the man with the silvery hair. Memorizing his details. Aside from the distinctive smile and the .45 in hand, the man had a spare gun that made a bulge in his left trouser leg, and probably a knife in the right one.

Shunsui hoped his Nanao-chan remembered page three of the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd. Survival Handbook. It might be impossible to it pull off otherwise.

"Who are you working for?" Shunsui asked. "Surely it would be safe to tell us, knowing that dead men tell no tales."

The man with the silvery hair chuckled. "I'm not falling for that," he said. "You're a wily creature, Shunsui Kyoraku. Are you trying to engage me in conversation, so that my attention is drawn away from your lovely companion?" The barrel of the gun directed itself solely at Nanao. "I think I'll shoot her in the stomach, first. It seems a pity to hit her in the head. If she survives, you might still appreciate her beauty in a coma… that's if I fail to kill you too."

Nanao blanched. Her hands clung to the precious paperwork and held it tightly to her chest.

Shunsui, on the other hand, was almost relaxed. "If you want the papers, you can have it," he said. "I have no use for them, just as I have no use for Nanao-chan in a coma."

"How callous you are!" the man sneered. "No use for your girlfriend in a coma? You are less sentimental than your file claims."

"On the contrary, my good man," Shunsui addressed the man confidentially, looking squarely into his eyes. For some odd reason, he was reminded of dried persimmons and powdered green tea. "There is no beauty without motion. As the poet says, the wild swallow swims away with the prize as the cuckoo warms the nest."

The hand holding the gun wavered.

In the split second the stranger was distracted by the nonsense rhyme, Nanao took her chance.

On cue, without looking back, she jumped overboard.

The papers in her arms flew out with the gust of her movement, creating a flurry of white in her wake.

The man with the silvery hair cursed and changed targets.

As he raised his hand to pull the trigger, Shunsui swung his arm hard into the man's mouth, throwing his aim off.

The shot went wild.

Shunsui was not surprised to see blood -- but it slightly perturbed him that it was his own.

As he felt himself being thrown back against the side of the ferry, Shunsui considered his options in a hurry. _Continue grappling for the gun and risk hitting the gas tank of the boat, or…? _

Shunsui remembered Nanao's foolhardy choice. "So long, jerk," he snarled, as he threw his concealed knife into the man's foot, neatly nailing his assailant to the floor.

The man screamed in pain as Shunsui dived into the waiting water.

Frustrated gunshots rained down from overhead. Keeping below the surface of the water for a long breath, Shunsui hoped he was swimming in the direction of the shore.


	18. Interlude 9 5: Hitsugaya's laboratory

_**Interlude 9.5: on the second floor of the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd. office**_

* * *

Something was bothering Rangiku Matsumoto. It wasn't the unfinished stack of paperwork on her desk, pertaining to closed cases she had worked on before. It wasn't the hum of forensic machinery that took forever in their processing, much unlike their fast-moving counterparts on the boob tube. It sure wasn't the presence of her colleague, who was hunched over the laboratory table and busy comparing three different images on his computer screen.

"So what do you think of this case, Taichou?" Matsumoto asked, putting down the novel she was reading. She reached over to the next table to take a sip of tea from his cup.

Hitsugaya swatted her hand away automatically. He knew Matsumoto very well; she was just trying to get his attention. Her additional use of his old nickname -- it meant _little boy_ in Rukongai slang -- clinched the situation. Reluctantly he tore his attention away from his computer.

"There's not much to it," Hitsugaya said. "If Ukitake had volunteered our services for a case that had multi-directional blood splatters to analyze, or perhaps the mummified remains of a man who died last year, maybe I'd be more riveted." He felt a bit cantankerous about it. "I don't know what Shunsui was complaining about… the phony land titling case is more interesting from an evidence point of view. It took us an entire week to figure out that all the signatures on those deeds were forged and that the paper itself was faked. Too bad he forgot to bring all the titles with him or the culprit could be charged by now."

"I don't know, I still think the Kuchiki case is a perfect crime," Matsumoto yawned. "Crimes within the family usually are."

"The only crime here, Matsumoto, is you not helping me analyze this data!" Hitsugaya grimaced.

"Okay, okay," Matsumoto got up. She positioned herself right behind his wooden bar stool. She loved teasing him this way… "Tell me what you're looking at now."

Hitsugaya sighed, ignoring the grazing touch of large breasts behind his head. "Those are the three hair samples from Inspector Kurosaki… the first two are cross-sections of Hisana and Rukia Kuchiki's hair."

Matsumoto nodded. "These were used for the trial."

He pointed to the screen. "The new cross-section might be Byakuya Kuchiki's."

Matsumoto giggled; she had a sudden mental image of the young inspector pulling on the eminent businessman's scalp for a sample. "It's totally different in shape and size from the other two," she said, frowning. "Is that all you've got after sitting at that table for almost twelve hours?"

Hitsugaya growled. "The damn mass spectrometer isn't done yet." He had been on Ukitake's case to get the latest model but the agency couldn't afford it at the moment, so he was getting by with what they had.

"You're just sore because you haven't gotten to use the new thermal cycler," Matsumoto teased.

He controlled himself from glancing at the gleaming new DNA analysis equipment. "So you say," he said. Instead Hitsugaya glared at the old apparatus that was letting him down. At last, however, it resounded with a little _ting._ Almost absentmindedly, he hit the enter button on the printer.

They looked at the results printed on the page, and then at each other.

"Ouch!" Hitsugaya yelped as their heads bonked together, in their eager disbelief to refer back to the old results for Hisana and Rukia.

"That seals it," Matsumoto said immediately. "I'll tell Ukitake." She rushed out of the room.

Hitsugaya didn't hear her. He was already speed-dialing Inspector Kurosaki's cell phone. "I don't know what this means to you, Inspector," Hitsugaya said without preamble. "But the results just came in. What you think is a sample of Byakuya Kuchiki's hair has double the arsenic levels of both Kuchiki females. Either he eats the stuff like candy himself… or someone is still poisoning the clan."

The stunned silence on the other end of the line was satisfying.

The Kuchiki case just got intriguing to his bright green eyes.


	19. Chapter 10: 15 Grandfisher Street

_**Chapter 10: At 15 Grandfisher Street, Kinogaya District**_

* * *

Ichigo couldn't believe it. He was bowled over by the news. The technician's advice still rang in his ears. "Maybe the whole Kuchiki household should be tested, but that might take too much time. Maybe you should wait for the autopsy report on Hisana Kuchiki. Twelve hours isn't long enough to dig up the dead."

_Byakuya Kuchiki has twice the amount of arsenic in his hair. _

That didn't make sense to Ichigo. He was baffled. He wanted to make out that the man was the mastermind. But it would make no sense if he were still maintaining his immunity to arsenic if he already tidied his wife out the way and his sister-in-law was framed to take the fall.

_Did something else kill Hisana Kuchiki?_

Unable to solve the knot without the autopsy findings, Ichigo did the unexpected: he went home.

Ichigo wasn't sure why he felt like going home. Maybe he was looking for inspiration. If inspiration wasn't forthcoming, a good home-cooked meal would do.

Home was a small, pleasant building on the southeastern fringes of the Karakura mainland. It was not a beachfront property, but one could still smell the ocean breeze throughout the place. Adjacent to the family dwelling was the clinic his father ran for as long as he could remember. Being a workaholic, Ichigo had a shoebox apartment a stone's throw away from the office, but it was merely a place to dump his laundry and crash for the night. Home was the place where sand perennially swept onto the floor, where his sister Yuzu took care of everyone, and where his father -- well! It was difficult for Ichigo to wax poetic for his weird old man.

"Ichigo!" Karin opened the door.

"How's Dr. Kurosaki?" he said, ruffling the top of her head.

Karin grinned, lightly cuffing his hand away. "Not too shabby… I jus wish they made med school easier."

"Karin!" Yuzu scolded. "Med school is difficult to keep out the lazy students who might kill people."

"Oh yeah? So how did Dad get his degree?"

"Hey, I heard that," Isshin boomed, as he ran to hug all his children. His flying leap across the room was easily blocked.

"Damn it, son, you didn't have to hit my nose," Isshin croaked. "Nice to see you here. So when are you going to bring your new girlfriend home, eh? I could do a full body examination for you, free of charge. We don't want no strange rich heiresses if they have incurable diseases. I saw her photo in the newspaper beside yours, it was so dashing of you to save that old guy to get your girl's attention -- "

"Rukia Kuchiki is not my girl," Ichigo growled.

"Yeah, yeah, doth the lady protest too much," Isshin retorted.

"Whatever," Yuzu said. "Ichi, you're just in time for dinner. Can you set the table please?"

* * *

The table was picked clean of its spread, and Ichigo leaned back, his stomach content. _Thank God it's not possible to be poisoned by too many calories,_ he thought as he suppressed a burp. _Or else I would have to register Yuzu's cooking as a deadly weapon._

Karin was clearing the dishes while Yuzu was out in the pantry, clearly out to concoct a last-minute dessert. Isshin's attention wandered over to his eldest, who rarely came home except when he craved his creature comforts.

Isshin eyed his son warily. _Uncommunicative as usual,_ he noted. Knowing it would spark off some conversation, Isshin got up and patted around the pockets of his doctor's coat. He found what he was looking for and brought the stuff to the table.

In less than a minute there was smoke curling from his fingertips. Isshin inhaled deeply. It was his first cigarette in almost a year.

"What are you doing, smoking around the house?" Ichigo came out of his stupor. "Yuzu is going to kill you. If a patient suddenly comes in, you'd lose your reputation as a good doctor."

"I haven't got much of a personal reputation to stake, son," Isshin replied.

The smoke was getting on Ichigo's nerves. Was Dad intentionally blowing it in his face? "I thought you only smoke one day of the year."

"Well, I had to make the rare concession today," Isshin said confidentially. "Two guys were snorkeling -- at least they _said_ they were snorkeling -- and wham, suddenly I'm suturing one big hairy ass and another guy's damaged pen--"

"I don't really want to hear that part, Dad."

"Tourists. They think they can do shit when they're on vacation here," Isshin rolled his eyes. "Be proud, son. This clinic is kept in business by all the stupid things people do on a daily basis. It's the little things that kill more people, you know. For instance, did you know that a cigar has enough nicotine to kill a person if you accidentally ingest it? There was a toddler here a week ago, he chewed on his dad's cigarettes and almost died. The stupid man didn't know how to use an ashtray and he tossed his used butts on the floor. It's the little things that add up…"

Ichigo was only half-attending to his father's ramble when his eyes, focused on the lighted end of Isshin's cigarette, suddenly snapped to attention. "What did you just say?"

"What?" Isshin said. "I said the cholesterol and the alcohol abuse and the daily pork intake that kills half the people around here… people who don't put on sunscreen when they go out…"

"Before that, damn it," he hollered.

"I said it's the little things that kill people, my idiot son who needs to clean his ears," Isshin yelled back.

Ichigo felt he was punched in the face with those words.

_There was a box of Havana cigars on Byakuya Kuchiki's office. _

"That's it. That's it." Ichigo grabbed his jacket and stood up. "Tell Yuzu I can't wait for dessert, but I'm sure it will be great. I got to check something out now."

Isshin watched his son whirl off so fast he might as well be moving at the speed of sound.

"Where's Ichigo?" Yuzu demanded, carrying a tray with four servings of brownie a la mode.

"Sorry, dearest," Isshin replied. "Your father was a bit too much help tonight."

"Daddy, you better stub out that cigarette before I kick your ass," Karin glowered as she threw open the windows. "It stinks in here."

Isshin did his daughter's bidding. "Yes, Dr. Kurosaki," he grinned.


	20. Interlude 10 2: in the water

_**Interlude 10.2: In the water**_

* * *

Shunsui was panicking. He could not see her anywhere. _Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea after all,_ he thought. _Maybe I should have taken on that silvery-haired guy even if it meant blowing up that boat. Maybe I should have… _

"Nanao-chan, are you all right?" Shunsui called out as soon as the ocean let him spit out the words.

"Yeah," she yelled back. "Just tired."

Shunsui was relieved. She was within hearing distance. What he didn't know was that she was tired from the effort of keeping afloat. She was out of practice. Her old swim coach would surely be shocked; she was in the worst condition for battling the elements…

"Nanao!" Shunsui bellowed once more. "Don't fall asleep."

The strong waters separated them, and frantically he tried to get closer to her, but the waves splashed him about and mocked his urgency.

The pull of the waves seemed ominous.

"Shunsui?" her voice was shaking.

She blinked. Among all the whitecaps, suddenly it was there.

"What is it?" _God please let it be a fisherman, a tourist on a jet ski -- _

"I think I see the shore," Nanao said, and closed her eyes briefly. She would dearly love to faint with exhaustion against Shunsui, knowing he could probably bring her to safety on his back, but her pride couldn't deal with the aftermath of such intimacy. Would it be right to let him touch her, all helpless and sodden?

In the back of her head, there was a resounding _no_ that drowned out the soft, hesitant _yes._

Sighing, Nanao pushed on, praying that her eyes did not deceive her.


	21. Chapter 11: Karakura General Hospital

_**Chapter 11: En route from Karakura General Hospital to the Met Office**_

* * *

Ichigo was almost back at Key Street when his cell phone rang. He felt defeated. It was too early in the morning to be feeling so down. He had just come back from hearing the official autopsy report. Yes, there was arsenic. But both the Chief Coroner and Ukitake's man were puzzled when he had asked if they found traces of nicotine in either her stomach or liver.

"Of course not," Ryuken Ishida immediately snapped. He was uncomfortable in the presence of the two other men who seem to doubt his appointed office. Ishida was unhappy to be dragged out of bed at midnight to oversee the autopsy at the hospital. But he would be damned before he let the Twin Fish people do it alone and claim all credit. It would be a sore point on his budding political career. "If it was nicotine poisoning, it won't show up in the organs at all. It passes through the system too quickly."

"It does, however, show up on the skin, doctor," the other man chided him. "Come take a look."

Ichigo was reluctant. He felt ill to his stomach as he approached the body and Akon, Ukitake's pathologist, pulled off the sheet with something remotely akin to glee.

_Hisana Kuchiki,_ Ichigo's mind whispered, but his imagination burned with the image.

In that cold room, on that metal table, he felt like a failure, and it was the body of Rukia Kuchiki he saw that had come to reproach him in a state of decomposition.

Ichigo wanted to bang his head against a brick wall. He hated looking at the dead at all but a point had to be made. "She's got all these abrasions and burn marks!" he exclaimed.

Reluctantly -- recoiling at the touch of cold flesh -- Ichigo turned over Hisana's arms. The same odd disfigurations were present on her wrists and near her elbow joints.

"Small burns. It's all over her legs and feet," Akon said. "Not just her arms. Care to look?"

Ichigo shook his head mutely. "I've seen enough," he said.

"Those inflamed areas are consistent with nicotine poisoning," Akon explained. "I've seen a few cases, when I did some medical missions down south where they grow lots of tobacco. The leaves get stuck on wet skin and poisons the workers. It's not something you'd expect to see on a Kuchiki."

Ryuken Ishida pursed his lips. This was outside his expertise, and it pained him that someone else had to point it out to him.

"You asked about nicotine poisoning," Akon added. "This nicotine wasn't fed to this woman. It was applied to her skin… in high amounts." He paused.

"Poisoned twice over," Ichigo muttered, as his eyes tried not to linger on Hisana's face. "This should not happen again."

After thanking them, he fled.

* * *

He was still thinking about that when the continually ringing of his phone made his head ache worse.

Whoever it was, this couldn't have come at a more inopportune time.

"Son!" Isshin's voice roared over the line. "Wherever you are, get back here."

"Not now, Dad, I'm busy," Ichigo snarled over the humdrum noise of the sidewalk. He was about to click_ end conversation_ when he heard the phone being passed to someone else on the other end.

"Kurosaki, listen to your old man," a tired voice said.

The inspector was shocked to hear Shunsui's voice. "What are you doing there?" he almost yelped in surprise.

"No time for that," Shunsui croaked. "Urgent. I can't get a hold of Ukitake or the Shihoin at this hour. There's a man on the move. Six feet tall, about 150 pounds, silvery hair and pale eyes. Evil smile. Fly at once, all is--"

Ichigo didn't hear the rest of the sentence; there was a muffled contest over the phone's receiver. The next thing he heard was his father.

"Forgive my newest patient, he's a little bit delirious right now. I stitched him up nicely and gave him something to help him sleep it off. The girl's asleep too. She's not wounded, just suffering from exhaustion and over-exposure. It might develop into pneumonia if we're not careful. People shouldn't sleep in wet clothing, especially on the beach."

His son was speechless, so he continued. "Apparently the boat they were riding was commandeered by some gnarly foreign fishermen." Isshin chuckled at _that_ cover story. "They jumped into the damn ocean and swam for two hours before they were washed ashore. I told them they were dumb--"

"Damn it Dad," Ichigo was incensed. "I know them! Can they still talk? It's important."

Isshin scratched his head. "Health comes before crime-fighting, son," he said reasonably. "I thought you'd want live witnesses instead of dead ones, that's why Karin and I fixed them up first. Don't worry, nobody else knows they are here… our nudist neighbor was the one who found them on his pre-dawn jog. I know Kon's a freak, but he's trustworthy."

Ichigo heard more noises in the background, and then: "Oh, the girl woke up. She said that their assailant had a Rukongai accent… someone who moved to Seireitei. Then there's something about data…" Ichigo was growing more impatient as more indistinct mumblings were said out of range of the phone. "She says Ukitake should know that the data is safe; she took the precaution of making digital backups. She says it's got to be Aizen."

_Aizen? Why did that name ring some distant bells in his memory?_ "Thanks Dad," Ichigo was about to hang up before Isshin interrupted again.

"Son, don't be a fool. I'll talk to them some more and put their valuables in the family safe." Isshin paused. "And whatever this is, don't get heroic and get yourself killed."

A long pause on his own part: Ichigo couldn't give false promises.

He hung up without replying.


	22. Interlude 11 3: in the Met basement

_**Interlude 11.3: At the Met Headquarters, Key Stre****et**_

* * *

Ichigo didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew it had to be in Central Archives. Everything was here. He fled to the basement.

It was a pity he wasn't paying any attention when Tatsuki tried to teach him how to use the damn database...

"Looking for something, Inspector?"

Ichigo whirled around, his fingers still poised on the keyboard.

"What are you doing here?" Ichigo grinned at Tatsuki, relieved. "I thought you were suspended."

"No thanks to you, jerk," she said. "But someone had almost wiped out the database on the one day I was gone, so the Superintendent decided to reverse my suspension. The Shihoin made him do it… she said she needed all case files of Inspector Abarai." Tatsuki paused. "But I'm never going to cover for you again, ever. Now you do everything by the book, like the rest of them."

Ichigo's mind had filtered out Tatsuki's long reply. Something she said triggered an odd sense of déjà vu but he just couldn't place it. "What's up with this Abarai fellow?"

"Apparently the guy went on vacation but never came back. Foul play is suspected, of course. But why our Chief Inspector is checking up on it is making me wonder," Tatsuki said. "I mean, the guy belongs to the Seireitei outpost, he's no business of ours. Do you mind?"

She elbowed him out of the way. Immediately, serial numbers of file boxes appeared on the screen within a few keystrokes.

Tatsuki disappeared for a few moments behind the stacks and came out with another box, identical to the one she had pulled up for Ichigo.

Without meaning to be prying, Ichigo mindlessly opened its contents. "Is this the inspector?" he held out a photo.

"Must be," Tatsuki was about to agree, and then she paused, shocked.

"What is it?"

She sat down in a daze. "I saw someone here," Tatsuki remembered. "The day you pulled up the Kuchiki case. Those eyebrow tattoos, and that red hair."

Ichigo shrugged. "I don't blame you. Anyone would remember these tattoos. They're bloody awful."

"You don't understand," she said. "Inspector Abarai was found floating off the shore of Rukongai. His was the headless body in the newspapers."

Ichigo didn't like the sound of this. "And?"

Tatsuki's eyes betrayed her disquiet. This alarmed Ichigo more than her information, because Tatsuki was rarely scared of anything.

"They just found his head, it was buried at the bottom of a dry well," she finally mumbled. "The lab guys upstairs just got back from Rukongai. They're are all abuzz with it. Abarai's been dead for more than a month."


	23. Interlude 11 7: from Key Street to 8th

_**Interlude 11.7: En route from Key Street to 8th Street**_

* * *

Ichigo was on the move. He was heading towards the Twin Fish office. His walk was brisk, his eyes, paranoid. Every street corner loomed unknown assailants and would-be murderers.

He could not permit this to continue.

One of his good friends -- one of the bravest women he knew -- showed the first iota of fear he'd ever seen in her. An inspector he's never met lost his head. Two acquaintances were attacked. An innocent woman was still in gaol, waiting to be judged and sentenced to life imprisonment, already condemned as guilty by the general public.

And Hisana Kuchiki's death was still a mystery. Arsenic or nicotine… which was it?

Ichigo checked a sigh. It was probably both.

Why was everything spiraling out of his control?

Days like this Ichigo wished he had a partner to help out straighten things in his mind. He thought vaguely of barging back into the Penitentiary just to ask Rukia her opinion. She seemed to be so much smarter than him…. even if she earned her living by drawing cute pictures of bunnies.

What did Rukia tell him? Something about history: _A lot of problems in the present can be traced to the wrong-doings in the distant past. _

At the center of the problem was the poisoned body of Hisana Kuchiki. If he isn't quick enough, Rukia would soon join her. Being condemned to rot in gaol was no better than being buried six feet underground. He could not allow that.

_Aizen… Aizen… _

Ichigo was racking his brains with this one. _Aizen? Why was that name familiar? _

_Why was the name Renji Abarai familiar, too? _

Ichigo felt his brain was swimming in a great murky ocean of detail; everything would come together if he found the right key. In the meantime, it all eluded him.

_The Kuchikis may be known for the wealth, but some envy them for their beautiful complexion and glossy straight hair. _

_Momo was an expert at Chinese medicine and her herbal therapies eased some of Hisana's pain._

_I was checking out some strange goings-on over at Seireitei involving phony land titles. I was there for a week. Boring stuff, nothing like what you've got your hands on._

_Byakuya's hair samples tested positive for arsenic too. _

_The assailant had a Rukongai accent… someone who moved to Seireitei. _

_I saw someone here. The day you pulled up the Kuchiki case. Those eyebrow tattoos, and that red hair. _

_She's innocent. _

And then suddenly, like a neat row of sand dunes that stretched out from his mind to the gaol cell that kept Rukia Kuchiki locked away, it all came tumbling down with a single brainwave.

Ichigo Kurosaki wanted to shoot himself of not realizing it sooner. He was better off dealing with smugglers, after all. It may have taken him forever to figure out. But he now knew what had happened, how it was all connected… and possibly, why Hisana Kuchiki was really killed.

It was just in time. He found himself on the corner of 8th and 13th Street.

He burst through the front door.

* * *

_Erm... I made a dorky map of the Commonwealth of Karakura, aside from a long post full of author's notes. If you're interested in that sort of thing, it can be found on my home page, under the title "Blood/Water: Inspirations and Resources." Otherwise, simply click on the tag for maps. Lurkers are welcome, but de-lurkers even more._

_Thanks for reading so far! The last chapters of this series will be up next week. XD_


	24. Chapter 12: confronting Ukitake

_**Chapter 12: At the Twin Fish Private Inquiries Ltd. office**_

* * *

A slight commotion was happening outside his room. Matsumoto wasn't as efficient as Nanao, but she was doing her best taking over her colleague's urgent duties. Ukitake smiled at his management of the office -- he was pretty sure that Hitsugaya was enjoying the silence of the laboratory right now.

"Inspector Kurosaki!" Matsumoto's voice was sufficiently loud. "I'm not sure if the boss is already in." Heavy footsteps indicated that the inspector walked right past her. "Go on ahead, just ignore _me_," the blonde called after him sarcastically.

The frosted glass paneling of Ukitake's office door shook with the force of Ichigo's urgency.

"Kurosaki! What a pleasant --"

Ichigo leaned over the desk and grabbed Ukitake by the neck.

"--surprise?"

He didn't care if his former mentor was ill or not. At this moment, he didn't care if he owed his initial training to this man before him. Ichigo was done with half-truths.

Ichigo certainly didn't care about the things rolling off the desk. A bottle of ink crashed to the floor, the liquid staining the bamboo slats like blood splatter.

"Tell me about the phony land titling case," Ichigo growled, his fist yanking hard on the older man's tie.

"I can't, even if you strangle me," Ukitake almost croaked. "It's confidential."

Ukitake did not move an inch. He had dealt with more serious threats to his vocal cords before. Ichigo wasn't going to do major damage to him, not with a witness right by the door.

Matsumoto stood there and made eye contact. Without a word, she pulled out her little Taurus .32 Magnum from her hip pocket, and trained the muzzle directly at Ichigo's back.

Ukitake blinked twice for _no_. She silently withdrew her belly gun.

_I hope I didn't get the Handbook code wrong,_ Matsumoto thought as she waited for what would happen next.

Ichigo knew a gun had been cocked at his back. He also knew that Ukitake was too honorable to give an order to strike him down from behind. Still, he felt entitled to his tirade. "Don't bullshit me, Ukitake! Tell me who your client is, and why Nanao and Shunsui are now lying in Dad's clinic half-dead!"

Ukitake was visibly moved. "No, not _again_. I told them to be careful."

Ichigo couldn't care less. "Tell me! Who is so important that your best friend and your associate would risk their lives for the sake of a client? It's got to be someone powerful, someone with money to buy secrecy."

Ukitake's eyes were downcast. Ichigo drove home the advantage. "It's Byakuya Kuchiki, isn't it? He suspected that one of his business associates, Aizen, was cheating him out of something. He wanted you to verify this." Seeing Ukitake nod almost imperceptibly, his grip loosened. "Why didn't you tell me?"

For someone being throttled, Ukitake's expression was calm. "I'm sorry, Kurosaki," he spoke between partly clenched teeth. "But the Kuchiki himself didn't know if Rukia killed her sister or not. You were the only one who was fully convinced of her innocence. I could not investigate it myself without going against his wishes, he insisted that the cases were unrelated… but I had very strong doubts. One crime was possibly the motive of the other. That's why I was trying to contact you, remember? I wanted you to check it out on your own."

Ichigo's suspicions thus confirmed, his hands slackened and he let go. He sank into the visitor's chair. His eyebrows, all furrowed with concentration, suddenly eased up.

_I've made such a fucking mess out of this case. _

Ukitake didn't bother to straighten out his tie or collar. A part of him knew he deserved the manhandling and merely massaged his neck. The bruises would surface tomorrow. Clearing his throat, he picked up the phone and called a direct line. Ukitake said very little into the receiver, and almost nothing that Ichigo could hear.

When Ichigo glanced around, Matsumoto had disappeared from the doorway. Ukitake put the phone down.

"What kind of man thinks it's safer for everyone concerned to have his sister-in-law locked up for a crime she possibly didn't commit?" Ichigo demanded sourly. "This is _not_ a rhetorical question."

"I don't know if that was the Kuchiki's intention," Ukitake answered. "But it's ironic… Rukia may be in the one place where all his enemies cannot touch her."

"Tell me," Ichigo asked. "Was that Byakuya Kuchiki you just called?"

The young inspector's voice was collected, but Ukitake could hear the warning tone in it. But the veteran detective knew it was time to come entirely clean.

"No, it was the Kuchiki household," he admitted. "The housemaid answered. Byakuya and Ikkaku left an hour ago. The Coastal Authority had contacted them… some fishermen found one of their boats was abandoned near the shore. I assume the culprit has managed to escape by now."

Ichigo gritted his teeth. He actually remembered something Shunsui said about Byakuya Kuchiki. _If someone killed his wife, he'd want to get revenge on his own. _

Ichigo didn't like the sound of that. His inner vision of justice began to look even more blinded than ever before. It began to take the form of a scratched-up old man wearing a hideous pair of shades and a tatty black coat.

"I have to look for them now," Ichigo groaned. "They could be anywhere on the Karakura shoreline. This has to stop before anyone else gets killed. Before the Shihoin fires me for incompetence. I've got to lock them both up. Aizen will be charged with murder and phony land titling and Kuchiki will be charged for being a snob. And I swear when I see that man…"

Ukitake slowly stood up. He smoothed down his bedraggled white collar. "Do not be so hasty, Kurosaki, since you do not know where to search." He opened his drawer and pocketed his faithful service revolver, a vintage VP70. "I will go with you. I think I know where they are."


	25. Chapter 13: at the Marina

_**Chapter 13: at the Marina **_

* * *

The main wharf of Karakura was deserted. It was approaching high noon and everyone -- the carters and the midshipmen, the layabouts and the touts -- all fled for the shade uphill, near the trees and the sidewalk retreats. The glare of the sun was persistent, scorching, and beat down its heat on one's skin with the sensation of a thousand tiny pin pricks.

No one in his right mind would suffer in this weather. The owners of the docked pleasure boats were still asleep, and the fisherfolk who earned their living from the sea were likewise at rest.

Yet two men, with silent footfalls and uncovered heads, blocked off the far end of the pier. They both observed a lone figure standing by the edge of the majestic wooden structure. The third man was reading an inscription on a stone slab.

" 'Munakata Kuchiki and his two sons landed on this shore on New Years 1610. They claimed Karakura and its neighboring islands as part of the Satsuma domain, and served as its faithful caretakers in the name of the Imperial family until the Meiji Restoration.' " The man's thin lips curled into a smile. "Such pretty lies, don't you think? Not a word about their retainers or their slaves who did all of the hard labor."

Byakuya Kuchiki knew the man somehow heard his approach. He chose not to respond to his opening gambit that sought to anger him. Instead Byakuya answered: "I would compliment you on your new hairdo, Aizen, except I would hate to be a liar."

The redhead turned and smirked. "So I've been found out," he said calmly. "I guess this disguise is no use to me now. It was fun while it lasted." Unceremoniously, he ripped off the wig and revealed his brunette hair. He smoothed a hand through its tousled waves.

In addition, he peeled off a a realistic layer of artificial skin, revealing the true contours of his nose and cheeks. "It's quite sticky to wear in this weather," Aizen explained airily.

"Wipe off those stupid fake tattoos too, you make me sick," Ikkaku mumbled.

But Byakuya shook his head. "Forget it, Ikkaku. I have to talk to him now."

Ikkaku backed off. He understood.

Byakuya Kuchiki advanced, yet he was unwilling to stand too close to his former associate. He tapped his walking stick on the slats of the wooden structure. "It was stupid of you to attack the Twin Fish Inquiry agents aboard one of my vessels," he said. "You thought I would not hear of this?"

"It was stupid of you to think I wouldn't know that already," Aizen replied, looking at the cane and rolling his eyes at the pretension of it. "There are calculated risks to every endeavor worth undertaking."

"Why did you do this to the Kuchiki? Our families have been affiliated for centuries!"

Aizen laughed; it was a harsh bark that carried over the low tide. "You Kuchikis never consider anyone your equals, have you?" he asked. "Not the Shibas or the Shihoins or the lesser families you deem your retainers and vassals, the Aizens, the Fons or the Ukitakes. Everyone else is supposed to pay tribute to you, either in kind or in labor. You're still living out your feudal dreams. But we owe no fealty to you. The old ties are no longer binding. We spit on your nobility."

The breeze that passed between them was heavy with the smell of brine.

"Is this all you have to say in excuse for breaking the law?" Byakuya raised his voice a notch. "Is this why you've been forging land titles and speculating in real estate that are all adjacent to my own? All my best barristers are busy fending off false claims created by you squatting on my boundaries. Your little business front, HM Realty, has cost me more than 70 million pounds in litigation and settlements."

"Land titles are nothing," Aizen sneered. "This land was here before you nobles decided to split it up among yourselves. Ancient history, but that's how it was. But sure, go ahead and put it that way as if I'm the only criminal. I started speculating with real land for sale, all adjacent to yours. But it got boring… so I altered the titles and merely borrowed a few yards, here and there, to make my estates more attractive to all the tourists who want to settle in our little tropical paradise. Don't you _like_ the boom in the local economy? I'm helping the Commonwealth here."

"Is that it? Is this all about money?"

"Don't be foolish. This is not just about money. This is about respect -- giving and taking it by force." Aizen swallowed. "First, I thought I wanted equality. But I realized I wanted something _more_. I want to stand higher than you on this earth. So I decided to sow some confusion with those titles. But that game started to get dull, so whenever I sold something off, I would first poison its water source with arsenic." Aizen's smile was deceptively serene. "One of my partners with HM Realty -- never mind his name right now -- is adept with poisons and supplies me with all I need, in exchange for other goods I can ship to him."

"A white-collar criminal trapped on Hueco Mundo, I suppose," Byakuya Kuchiki spat out. "You used to be a man of integrity, Aizen."

"That's where you're wrong. You never really knew me to make such statements true," Aizen said. "Shall I tell you the first thing I poisoned with arsenic? Your ancestral deep well was so lovely, its story so poetic… I just had to make it my first victim."

Byakuya's eyes narrowed.

"We've learned to poison most of the pipe lines here in Karakura, but deep wells are my favorite. Yes. Gin and I got to know deep wells very well." Aizen smiled faintly at some fond memory, and enjoyed his little pun. "I assume that you can't escape the irony of drawing water from your poisoned deep well with your own hands, and sealing the fate of your wife with your petty traditions."

Byakuya Kuchiki was not a fool. He was the Kuchiki: it was expected that he was master of all his emotions. He controled the rage within him, and yet, also marveled at Aizen's underestimation of his powers of observation. He _had_ noticed. Some of his more illustrious tenants had already complained to him personally about the strange illnesses they seem to get after drinking the water. _Don't touch the water,_ he kept telling them, _until my staff figures it out._ Which is like telling fish not to swim in the sea, but he had tried.

That was the hectic week at work before Hisana died.

Aizen continued his narrative, eyeing Byakuya steadily, perhaps guessing his morbid thoughts. "Some people started to notice the water -- like that pesky Urahara. I wanted him silenced. Too bad the man who got the contract messed it up. It distracted the jury, and I was hoping for a guilty verdict." Aizen paused, as he thought about the girl trapped in the gaol on top of Sougyoku Hills. "It would have been a nice touch to the unforeseen complication in doing away with you."

Byakuya's thoughts whirled in his head.

_There's blood in the water. Urahara. Ukitake's people. _

_Rukia. _

_Hisana._

"You were so happy to accept these abandoned pups into your home, while those who served your family for centuries was granted no more notice than a paltry mention in your will," Aizen said, each soft syllable dripping with vitriol. "I _still_ can't believe you gave those bitches your name."

Byakuya still managed to ignore the insult. "My family was always generous with yours," he reminded Aizen.

"Not in the ways that truly counted," Aizen said. "Gin and I had to fight for every scrap of respect we could get. I say, enough. I was happy with the idea of all of the happy, grateful tenants of the benevolent Kuchiki clan dying of illness. I wanted there to be numerous fatalities before the truth came out."

"Is this why you killed Hisana?" His voice was low. His hand gripped his cane, as if he was merely waiting for a single syllable.

But once more, the answer was unexpected. "Oh, Hisana was collateral damage, a happy accident if you let me describe her as such," Aizen assured him. "As much as I despised Hisana and her sister, you always were the intended victim. Arsenic poisoning is a slow method for murder. Everyone's got an outer limit for the stuff. When I had gone about poisoning the groundwater, she seemed to be more affected by arsenic than anyone else. Your constitution, strangely enough, seems unaffected by the poison! I realized it would take longer than I thought.

"So I had someone else kill her off since it was useful to have you distracted by grief. Besides, what if her aversion to the hospital changed, and she was given a blood test for heavy metals by some overzealous doctor? Hisana had to go." Aizen eyed Byakuya sideways. "You've been unable to drink liquor lately, I take it? And having some sensitivity to food? Finally, a physiological reaction…! I liked the idea of killing you by degrees, a little more each day. I wanted to see your smug little empire crumble apart, like a fortress built upon sand."

Noticing that Byakuya's expression hardly changed, Aizen added: "Strange. When you didn't go into mourning, I thought maybe you were grateful she was put out of her misery."

Byakuya Kuchiki heard enough. The thick veil enshrouding his buried emotions was shoved aside. Byakuya reached for the sword concealed in his walking stick. The Senbonzakura was not the oldest blade in his family's arsenal, but it was the only one that came in this form. He jabbed it in Aizen's direction. "Let us finish this," Byakuya finally snapped. "I demand satisfaction. I know you call yourself a swordsman, too. Ikkaku has a spare, if you wish to defend yourself as a gentleman."

"My, my," Aizen said, highly amused. "You actually wish to elevate me to _your_ level. It's too late! You've brought the wrong weapon to the fight. But I'll humor you with one of my own." From a holster he drew out his SIG P210-2 and aimed it at the other man's heart.

As Byakuya rushed towards him in a blur of motion, Aizen pulled the trigger. Thrown off balance by the sudden recoil, the shot went wild and there was a crash of steel smashing into flesh and bone. Byakuya withdrew his sword, blood dripping from its tip.

"Your head is next," Byakuya informed him, but Aizen was ready for him and steadied his grip once more, ignoring the gaping wound on his shoulder. He took a couple of steps backwards.

The second bullet shot out and ricocheted against the naked blade.

Feet pounded up and down the pier's entrance.

"Stop! Police!"

Three, four, five shots rang out in the muggy weather.

Stunned, Byakuya Kuchiki was hit repeatedly in the chest. He fell to his knees.

"Your head is next, Kuchiki," Aizen taunted. His finger itched for the kill.

"Hands up, Aizen! Now!"

The sixth shot came from the opposite direction.

Inspector Kurosaki could have sworn he didn't pull his trigger, so he was staggered when Aizen's body fell backwards into a graceful arc.

He looked over his shoulder to see Ukitake lower his weapon, a grim expression on his face.

Ichigo paused. He was waiting for the distinctive splash of a heavy weight falling into the sea. Instead, he heard strange clattering, a groan, and then the dull roar of a speedboat roaring to life.

Ukitake rushed to the side of the fallen while Ichigo ran to the edge of the pier. "What the hell --"

"You bloody fools!" Byakuya was piqued as he tried in vain to get up to his feet. "Aizen's getting away."

"It was silly of you to confront him," Ukitake scolded his client as he leaned to assess the damage. "You should have left it to me." He hurriedly ripped off the remains of the wounded man's designer clothes.

"The Kuchiki has no tradition for cowardice or stupidity," Byakuya said as he closed his eyes. His chest hurt from the impact of the shots.

Ukitake couldn't help but grin in relief. Under all the layers, there it was: a concealed bulletproof vest and an audio recorder. Its mechanism had stopped dead in its tracks, riddled with bullets.

His chest was probably going to be a mass of black and blue bruises, but Byakuya Kuchiki was going to live.

"I think Hitsugaya will enjoy retrieving evidence from that." The older man's satisfaction was cut short by the sharp sounds of live rounds being discharged into the sea.

The breeze was sharp once more with the scent of gunpowder.

Before Ukitake had time to turn around, Chief Inspector Shihoin was there. Her light footfall made her movements seem inhumanly fast. "Stop that now," she thundered at Ichigo. "Drop it!"

Obediently, the young inspector let his emptied Glock fall to the ground. It clattered and got caught between two wooden slats. The Chief Inspector picked it up.

The gun was still warm.

"He got away," Ichigo said dumbly. "I can't fucking _believe_ it. After I finally figure it out, Aizen _still_ got away." He stabbed an angry finger in the direction of the watery distance. The Chief Inspector could barely make out the figures of the two men, one silvery-haired and one brunette, sailing off to God-knows-where.

"I can't fucking believe it," he repeated. His clenched fist wanted to slam against the commemorative stone slab and pulverize it into little pieces. "His accomplice was waiting below the pier the entire time. I didn't even get to lay my eyes on the pricks."

Yoruichi Shihoin grinned. "You can look at some old mug shots and driver's licenses," she offered. "Really, Sosuke Aizen and Ichimaru Gin aren't the stuff of centerfolds."

"Why are you so relaxed about this?" Ichigo grumbled.

"Don't be stupid, Kurosaki," the Chief Inspector said, pointing. "I alerted the Coastal Authority on the way here. I had a feeling this was going to happen. For now it's all up to them."

They watched as two speedboats came out from nowhere and began to chase after the killers.

"Enthusiastic to help out, huh?" Ichigo said sarcastically.

"Of course they are," the Chief Inspector said. "All I needed to say was that the murderers of Inspector Abarai were on the loose, and they jumped. Nothing like the words 'cop killer' to get everyone to snap to attention." She turned to Ichigo and studied him sideways with her feline glance.

When Ichigo didn't reply, she decided to go easy on him. "Inspector Kurosaki. Wait for me at the office. We have things to discuss."

"But --"

"That's an order, Inspector."

Inspector Kurosaki opened his mouth once more to protest, but the Shihoin's ferocious glare made him stop. As she turned her back on him and radioed the boats in hot pursuit, Ichigo moodily stalked off. He hated being treated like a rookie, and hell, the Chief still had his weapon.

Ichigo paused mid-way and halted in front of Byakuya Kuchiki. The powerful businessman was being helped to his feet by Ukitake.

There was something that lay heavily on Ichigo's mind. He vented his frustration out on Ikkaku. "Why didn't you do anything, punk?" he yelled at the bald man. "You just watched them attack each other and do nothing?!"

"I had my orders," Ikkaku said stoutly. "As do you."

Ichigo glared. In the end, he kept his mouth shut and slunk off, fuming.

Byakuya grimaced at Ichigo's retreating back, as Ukitake and Ikkaku maneuvered him into a waiting vehicle. The bruises on his chest and ribs from the impact of the shots were black and painful. "That boy owes me an apology," he observed.

"I fancy he thinks you owe Miss Rukia an apology, too, boss," Ikkaku muttered.

The Kuchiki fell silent.

* * *

_**New Interlude Alert! **__(9-1-08)_

_I wrote two IchiRuki-ish interludes that I originally deleted from the main narrative. When I posted them over on my blog, however, some of my friends told me I made a mistake in having omitted them. (visualize me banging my head against a wall)_

_So with a little tweaking of the current chapter ordering, I just put them in __**now **__where they ought to be. If you want to read them, they are Interlude 6.2 (Tape Recorder, Part I) and Interlude 8.2 (Tape Recorder, Part II.) _

_I hope these additions are welcome. :D Thanks for your patience and all the great reviews. The last chapters will definitely be up in a week or two. Please stay tuned until then! _


	26. Interlude 13 5: Chief Inspector's office

_**Interlude 13 5: the Chief Inspector's Office**_

* * *

The Shihoin paused before swinging open her office door. Through the glass she could see Inspector Kurosaki pacing about like a caged beast, still upset about a job he considered half-done.

"The Coastal Authority lost them," she announced the moment she stepped inside. "The high tide came in and chased Aizen and Gin out of the Commonwealth's territorial waters. There's a chance they will capsize or run out of fuel before reaching land, but…"

"That's a lot of crap," Ichigo's voice was full of scorn. "There's not too many places to go on the high seas. Not in this area. They will be back."

"Yes, they will," Yoruichi Shihoin said briskly. "And when they are, the Met will be ready for them. Until that day, though, you need some rest."

Ichigo was surprised. "What?"

"Yes, you deserve a break. A nice long break." The Chief Inspector winked. "It's also known as preventive suspension. And it starts the moment you walk out of this office."

Ichigo's eyes betrayed his consternation. "What?!"

"You need time off for psychological treatment -- don't you ever shoot into the sea again, you idiot," she glared. "Who the hell you think you are, Mike Hammer? You can take your tough guy act somewhere else. The fish don't care."

The sulky expression on Ichigo's face made Yoruichi want to crack up but she controlled herself.

"You need to talk to someone about your problems with authority. I can't keep covering your back until I know you won't pull any more stupid stunts, like assaulting former Chief Inspector Jushiro Ukitake. I'll be keeping your Glock until you return in three weeks."

The young inspector's shoulders slumped over, disheartened.

Chief Inspector Shihoin's eyes softened for a flicker of a moment. She decided to change the topic to give him something to chew on. "Remember the loose end in one of your smuggling cases? The guy who rented the warehouse."

For a moment, Ichigo thought his boss was talking gibberish. Then he remembered. "Yeah. What about it?"

"It was Chief Inspector Gin," she said wearily. "He's been running a smuggling business on the side for a couple of years. There were some interesting notes in Inspector Abarai's locker. I'm still going through all the paperwork. It's possible Abarai was gathering evidence against his boss when he was ordered to take a vacation. Abarai's record shows he hadn't taken a day off work since he entered the force… just like you. Renji Abarai should have known better."

The Shihoin walked over to one of the boxes littering her office and pulled out a photo. "Looks familiar? That's Momo Hinamori. She's Abarai's girlfriend."

"Aizen wanted to get rid of Kuchiki, and Gin needed to get rid of Abarai. Momo just happened to be in the way, linking them all." Ichigo thought about it for a moment. "So was Abarai used to blackmail Momo into cooperating or was Momo used to silence Abarai?"

"We never can tell with these slimeballs," the Shihoin shrugged. "But they do love using other people to do their dirty work. Look at that nutcase Tousen."

Ichigo was silent for several minutes. He had no idea there were so many wheels within wheels when he first took this on.

"You can stop emoting in my visitor's chair now," Yoruichi Shihoin said, as she started shuffling through her in-box. "You may go. Think of the time off as a reward." There was an innocent twinkle in the woman's eye that made Ichigo wary. "Congratulations. You can now spend loads of time at Sougyoku Hills. You can call it couples' therapy."

"The Penitentiary? Why would I want -- " Ichigo bit his tongue mid-sentence. 

The Chief Inspector was openly grinning at him.

"I did not take on this case to make Rukia Kuchiki my girlfriend! All due respect, Chief Inspector, but you can all go to hell." He stomped off in a huff.

Yoruichi Shihoin burst into raucous laughter.


	27. Chapter 14: Penitence, the last visit

_**Chapter 14: Penitence Detention Facility, Sougyoku Hills**_

_**

* * *

**_

The teasing he received, however, didn't stop Inspector Kurosaki from staying away. He was fascinated with her eyes; she seemed unable to control their fiery sparks.

Really, it wasn't like Rukia to hope for too much. The news he came to deliver in person seemed too amazing to be true.

"You will be cleared of all charges, you know," Ichigo said. "But you'll have to wait for the scheduled re-trial though. That's in a few days. The King's Counsel is still going through all the evidence, and some of it is still being processed. The tape recorder that Kuchiki had on him, for instance… they're still trying to piece that together. The forensics guy at Twin Fish is ecstatic about that."

"Not any time sooner?" she asked. "How can it be a certainty?"

"My boss arm-wrestled the Superintendent into examining the goings-on for the Seireitei outpost," Ichigo explained. "They found so many anomalies the entire force was sacked. Inspector Kira was discharged from the service. He's been refusing to cooperate with the investigation. He's suspected for playing a part in Inspector Abrarai's disappearance. I don't know if he's going to be charged with anything. Chief Inspector Ichimaru Gin will be charged in absentia for kidnapping, blackmail, fraud, conspiracy to murder… among other things."

"In absentia…" Rukia shook her head. "Both he and Aizen, too. This is why he seemed vaguely familiar when the police came to arrest me that night."

"They found another red wig and all the paraphernalia. It was a strange thing to do, for both of 'em to impersonate Inspector Abarai," Ichigo said.

"I don't understand the logic of that. It seems incredible."

"It does have a twisted sense of humor to it," Ichigo agreed. "They were probably counting on any witnesses describing them as having red hair and tattoos. Most people wouldn't bother remembering anything beyond that."

Rukia nodded, but she didn't really agree with him. After all, Ichigo looked like someone she hoped to forget.

"The poor sod," he warmed to his topic. "Nobody even reported him as missing."

"Perhaps he didn't have a lot of friends." Rukia's hands tried not to shake as they lay on the table. "Are you sure it was Momo, though?" she still couldn't believe that part.

Ichigo frowned. "Yes. The Twin Fish lab and the Met lab identified the contents of an alcohol bottle found in Momo's apartment. It contained highly concentrated liquid nicotine. The acupunture needles too, were analyzed… they were laced with the stuff." Ichigo hesitated. He wasn't sure if Rukia was ready to find out that her sister's reluctant killer was already found dead, hanging from the rafters of her old boarding house. Suicide or not, the autopsy results hadn't come in yet. But Aizen's fingerprints were all over the place.

_Probably not,_ Ichigo decided grimly. Even if Aizen didn't lift a finger against Momo, Ichigo's gut feeling told him that the girl was unhinged to begin with. Whatever mental cruelty that man had devised, it probably was meant to break the weak.

Aizen had singlehandedly raised the Commonwealth's crime statistics by double digits. The Met was all in an uproar, over what some now dubbed "the crime spree of the decade." A special task force, in fact, was formed to deal with civilian panic. Everybody was scared of their deep wells. Bottled water was being hoarded and re-sold at exorbitant prices.

Rukia bowed her head, if only to lessen the intense scrunity of his glance. _I was there when Momo performed that last accupuncture session,_ she mused. _Hisana had kept complaining about the burning sensation on her skin. I did not understand… _

Rukia wondered why she was doomed to let the people she loved most die in front of her eyes. This was not the first time.

"Are you… all right?"

His voice was hesitant. Ichigo wanted to comfort her but he couldn't touch her. They were still in this damnable gaol.

Besides, he had no idea if his touch could actually comfort anyone.

His fists were clenched so hard, the knuckles had almost turned white.

"Thank you," Rukia finally breathed.

Ichigo was uncomfortable with her gratitude. "Just doing my job," he mumbled. "Really, I was. Taxpayer's money, and all that."

Rukia abruptly stood up. All of this was just too much to absorb in one sitting. "I want to go now," she announced. "Good-bye."

"Wait!" Ichigo blocked Rukia's path. "When you get out… maybe I'll see you around?"

She shook her head. "I have things to sort out for myself," she said, firm yet gentle. "I thank you but… I don't want to be paying for my freedom with my freedom."

Ichigo tugged at her prisoner's white sleeve. "What the hell? I don't know what you're talking about!" he growled. "I just said, I want to check on you."

"Check on me or check me out?" Rukia queried.

"Where did _that_ come from?" Ichigo snarled. "You've got a big head. I'm not demanding anything from you."

"Oh yeah?" she shot back, affronted. Rukia lost her patience. "Then why are you so mad? Let go of me."

"That's enough. Your time's up," an unknown guard suddenly popped up beside them. "We don't tolerate that sort of interaction, sir."

Ichigo's face grew hot. His fingers gripped her wrist in a tight squeeze, as if he could not let her go now that he managed to touch her.

Rukia cradled her wrist with her other hand. Her face darkened.

_Damn it, did I just bruise her?_ "Hey, Rukia, I didn't mean to --"

His stumbling apologies were almost left unheard as Rukia was snatched away from his side.

"Ichigo!" he whirled around to see her at the prisoner's exit, trying to peer over the guard's arm. "If you're really sorry, you'll be there at the re-trial so I can kick your ass."

His eyebrows unknitted. "Sure thing, Rukia, you ungrateful little--"

Rukia stuck out her tongue at him in response. Then she disappeared from sight.

_Women. Nutcases, all of 'em._ Ichigo was infuriated… but he was also strangely elated that she wanted him to be there.

"Time to go, Inspector," a familiar figure hustled him out of the visitor's lounge.

Ichigo grudgingly followed Hanatarou out and collected his things. "You forgot your tape recorder last time. Let me get it for you."

As the guard rifled through stray belongings behind the counter, Ichigo just realized something. It wasn't essential, but it was part of the whole.

"Here it is," Hanatarou said cheerfully, and Ichigo looked at his tape recorder. He wasn't surprised to see a fresh tape inside.

"Thanks." Before he turned to go, Ichigo stopped him. "One last thing."

The guard stalled as he held open the steel gate. "Yes, Inspector?"

"You're in Byakuya Kuchiki's employ, aren't you." It wasn't phrased as a question. Ichigo wanted confirmation.

Hanatarou blinked. "It was the only favor the Kuchiki ever asked of me," he replied. "Please don't report this to the Warden. It's a dreadful breach of contract. I will lose my job."

"Why did you agree to look after Rukia?"

"I pay my debts, I do," Hanatarou said proudly. From within the folds of his uniform, he drew out a worn photograph from a battered wallet.

Ichigo could hardly make out the figures in the crowded group shot, but in the end he identified two people: Hanatarou as a skinny teen with a nervous grin, and Hisana Kuchiki dressed as Mrs. Santa Claus and handing out gifts. Ichigo flipped over the photo and read the inscription: _North Karakura Orphanage, Dec. 25._

"It was my last year at the orphanage, and my best Christmas ever. She had time to listen to all of us."

"I thought so." Ichigo returned the photograph and shook the man's hand. "I'll pretend I didn't see it."

He then turned to go, hoping it would be the last time he'd see Rukia confined in that dreary place.


	28. Chapter 15: Return to the Courthouse

_**Chapter 15: All Souls Square, Tsubaki-dai District**_

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The cool air in the courthouse was scented with the faint perfume of jasmine and excitement.

The crowded hall was bubbling over with suppressed anticipation. It wasn't just the pleasant breeze that marked the departure of the heavy atmosphere. The least observant members of the courthouse may have ascribed the change to the mainland's abrupt seasons, which saw the passage of summer to monsoon overnight. Judge Yamamoto was no longer sweating beneath his superfluous hair but wearing a sweater under his robes to protect from the occasional draught.

What was different? The King's Counsel were still the same professional litigators suddenly bored with the job at hand. The old defense team was sacked -- perhaps unnecessarily at this point, but the general public didn't know that.

Ichigo Kurosaki knew what had changed: the mood all stemmed from the demeanor of the woman who sat a few yards away from him. Rukia Kuchiki's last appearance in this room a month ago revealed the raw emotions of a woman resigned to her fate. Now, her conscience was cleared from any self-doubt; her expression betrayed only her absolute innocence. She was almost beautiful in her defiance. Her eyes sized up the contents of the room, and found it wanting.

The young inspector was nonplussed when she did not quite acknowledge his glance with anything more than her eyes sidling up to his before darting away.

The courts had anticipated the uproar that was sure to follow this short session. Judge Yamamoto had been briefed ahead of time by Chief Inspector Shihoin but still, the legal niceties must be made public.

Ichigo tried to suppress his grin. He noticed something else: it looked like Hanatarou the gaoler had interceded on his favorite prisoner's behalf. Rukia Kuchiki stood at the dock, dressed not in her convict's whites but in a simple suit that brought out the sheen in her complexion.

Unconsciously, Rukia rubbed her neck. It was as if she was checking for the humiliating collar that was no longer there.

Ichigo slouched over his seat, interested.

Judge Yamamoto banged on his gavel and brought the court was brought to order.

The lead barrister of the King's Counsel stood up. "Your honor, I am instructed to inform the court that the Crown offers no evidence against this prisoner in the case of the Commonwealth versus Rukia Kuchiki."

The electrifying gasp went through the rows, and Mr. Komamura continued. "The charge of murder against Rukia Kuchiki has been withdrawn. I have been further instructed to state for the benefit of the court --" here the heavy-set barrister cocked an eye at the boisterous audience, indicating for whose benefit his statements were made "-- that new evidence has been submitted by the Metropolitan Police that proves the absolute innocence of the accused on the dock."

Judge Yamamoto's face was rather sour, or at least the arrangement of his features made it seem so. "Am I to understand that the court is to find the defendant Not Guilty?" he bellowed. "Jury, you have your instructions."

Ignoring the squeals and rumbles of erupting from the audience, the new forewoman consulted with her bewildered jurors for a few moments. "Not Guilty!" she squeaked upon standing up, before sitting down again, breathless.

The old judge nodded. "The court finds Rukia Kuchiki cleared of all charges and innocent beyond all reasonable doubt. She is free to go."

It was at that moment Rukia looked directly at Ichigo, and the soft smile of his lips thawed out the chill in her heart.

The eruption of whoops and exclamations that could no longer be contained, however, created an unforeseen distance between them as Ichigo stood up from his seat the same time several burly reporters rushed to the front.

For the second time in his career, Judge Yamamoto was shocked by the behavior of the common civilian. He banged on his gavel to no avail, and gave up trying to conclude the day's session. "The halls of justice should not be disrespected by you media hounds! Clear out of my courtroom! All of you!" he hollered querulously.

Ichigo Kurosaki, however, didn't wait for that command. There was only one place for her to show up.

"Here, Miss Kuchiki!" Rukia was bewildered by the blinding flashes from multiple cameras and the shouts of the reporters. The bailiff was trying to summon her away from the crowd. Without hesitation, she followed the bailiff and disappeared into the judge's quarters. A collective groan from the mediamen could be heard.

Hatch banged the heavy door shut. "Those wolves," Hatch sighed. "Judge Yamamoto should have foreseen that!" The bailiff turned his attention to the former prisoner. "Hurry. If you take the door to the left, it leads to the judges' private entrance to the building… don't go through the underground parking, just follow the path and then left when you see the 'no exit' sign."

Rukia thanked the bailiff and followed his instructions. Within moments, she blinked, and found herself out into the dewy morning. She was at a loss. _What do I do now?_ Rukia thought dully. _And where do I go from here?_

"Rukia."

She whirled around and saw Inspector Kurosaki standing there, a hooded expression in his eyes. He clutched, awkwardly, a bouquet of carnations and roses.

"What do you want?"

"I figured you could use some company. There's some place I thought you'd like to see, the moment you get out."

"And what place is that?" She bristled. "Somewhere quiet and secluded, where you can get to know me better?!"

"Damn it woman," Ichigo protested. "There's nothing in your record that says you're a sex fiend. How many times do I have to tell you it's not about that?"

Rukia dithered. "Sorry. So where do you want to take me? If it's anywhere --"

Ichigo wanted to take the liberty of shushing her with a finger placed on her lips, but instead he reassured her with a glare. "If you speak any louder, the reporters out front will hear you. You have a choice to talk to them or to go with me. What will it be?"

Chagrined, Rukia reached for the flowers.

"These aren't for you," Ichigo's features relaxed as he held out the bouquet. "They're for your sister."

The walk to the Karakura cemetery was quiet and companionable. Rukia was embarrassed because she couldn't remember all the strange and personal things she had mentioned in passing when she used his tape recorder in gaol. Ichigo was likewise restrained, unable to remember all the topics he shouldn't bring up in case it upset her.

It occurred to Ichigo that maybe he should talk about himself to fill in the gaps of silence. Yet Ichigo didn't like to talk about himself. It was one of the reasons why he became a detective in the first place. He was the one supposed to be posing the questions, not answering them.

Ichigo led the way, doing it more out of instinct than having a real sense of direction. Among the rows of the Commonwealth dead, all was quiet except for the rustle of leaves crunching beneath their feet.

They spoke at the same time, all at once.

"Did you really think --"

"I would like to know --"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and let her speak first. Rukia came to a stop in front of a simple tombstone of chiseled black stone. It stood out in its elegance, making the more elaborate markers in its vicinity look gaudy.

There was no hint that Hisana was exhumed and re-buried in the monumental weeks since she was first laid to rest. A gardener transplanted fresh moss and grass on the recently disturbed area. Ichigo had a pretty good idea who ordered such a thing to be done.

"How did you know where to find Hisana?" she said as she rested the spray of flowers on her sister's tomb. It was not the original question on the tip of her tongue.

"You said you never got to say goodbye," he answered, a lump in his throat. "I know how that feels. That's why I made a few phone calls, to ask where your sister was buried."

Belatedly, Rukia looked around and realized that Hisana was resting among the Kuchiki clan. "It's okay," she said to Ichigo. "She's still among family."

"It's not okay, damn it," Ichigo frowned. "Her life was cut short. She should be here with you instead of…" _Instead of me. _

"I know that. But it's not something we can change now, can we?" Rukia rested her hand on the stone and caressed it. _Hisana, I'm sorry we didn't have more time,_ Rukia said to herself. Her eyes were blinking furiously.

"Hey, you don't have to fake anything around me." His voice was low. "Come on, let it out."

The words of permission -- no, that was wrong, Rukia didn't need permission -- the words of encouragement Ichigo spoke triggered a tsunami of grief in her. Rukia had spent her entire time in gaol trying to be strong for herself. But now she could show weakness and properly mourn for her beloved sister.

Rukia wept. The sobs escaped her throat. She clutched herself in her unchecked sorrow, the ache in her heart finally rising dangerously to the surface. And when she could not longer support her sadness and she was about to sink to her knees, Ichigo caught her.

"Let it all out," he demanded roughly, and so Rukia did. Without meaning to do so, Rukia grasped on to the front of his shirt and bawled for what seemed like an eternity.

Stunned, Ichigo could only do what a guy could do in that situation: he held on to her with empathy and kindness. He eased her down to the ground, so Rukia could cry curled up in his arms. He pushed aside his mixed emotions, and accepted that it was oddly wonderful to give comfort to Rukia when she most needed it.

Besides, the top of her head smelled nice.

Too bad his shirt was mucked up beyond repair. Ichigo didn't try to stop her, though. It was only when Rukia started to make sniffling and snorting sounds when he decided enough was enough. "If you mistake me for a giant tissue for your snot, I will have to arrest you for disorderly conduct." He offered a handkerchief, none too clean, as an alternative.

Rukia pushed him away slightly and blew her nose. "Ew," she said, studying the handkerchief. "How long has that been in your back pocket?"

Ichigo shrugged. "Beats me. Feel any better?"

She wiped the last of her tears away, trying not to breathe in as she blew her nose again. Rukia crumpled the cloth in her hand. "Yes I do. Thank you, Ichigo."

Rukia stood up on her own and dusted off the grass from her clothes in a businesslike way, as if she was ashamed of all the emotions she had let loose.

Ichigo was not fooled. Still, he got up without a word.

Purely by accident, her right hand rubbed the sore spot on her left wrist where a tiny bruise remained. Perhaps Rukia could now ask him to crash at his place after all? The unavoidable intimacy of her breakdown suddenly made it possible. _Or maybe I can crawl into an unused closet in his place, _Rukia mused. _I doubt if he'll notice. _

"Rukia, don't take this the wrong way, but if you have no place to stay --" Ichigo started, and then blundered. "Hell, Dad loves meeting notorious people."

"What?!"

"I meant to say you can stay with my family for the time being, if you don't want to go back to the Kuchikis." There. He had acknowledged the riff between in-laws that may never heal. "Our clinic is on Grandfisher Street. My dad is nuts but my sisters are okay. And the beach is nearby if you like to swim." He reddened, and then shrugged. "I'd offer my apartment but it truly sucks. And you have made it clear that you're scared of me."

_No, I'm not scared of you,_ Rukia thought. _I'm just… exhausted._

It was at this awkward moment a stately black car drove up by the lane. A bald man got down, carrying an umbrella even if there was no rain. He moved with easy familiarity among the tombstones, and headed towards them.

"Miss Rukia," Ikkaku said. "Your brother has been looking for you since court adjourned."

Rukia hesitated.

Ikkaku tilted the umbrella to shield all three of them from the view of the limousine. "Don't be too hard on him," Ikkaku mumbled. "I'd understand if you won't ever forgive him. Just try hear him out."

Ichigo was torn between beating up the man sitting in the car or his employee. In the end, however, Ichigo knew this wasn't his battle. He stood back, and waited for Rukia's decision.

She glanced in her brother-in-law's direction, and thought she saw the silhouette of his proud head droop like a withering cherry blossom.

_Hisana loved this man,_ she thought. _But I do not want to give Nii-sama a second chance._

Still, curiosity tugged at her mind and overwhelmed her resentment.

Rukia looked to Ichigo.

"The offer still stands, if you ever change your mind," he said.

Rukia nodded. "Thanks."

"Inspector Kurosaki," Ikkaku said by way of neutral greeting. Ichigo accepted the acknowledgement, and nodded back.

Not knowing exactly what motivated her, Rukia let Ikkaku lead her towards the limousine. It was a long drive from the graveyard to the Kuchiki residence in town, and Byakuya had much explaining to do.

Rukia would give him that much time before informing her brother-in-law directly to his face that he should go to hell.

She would use the strength borrowed from Ichigo to do that much.

But Byakuya Kuchiki had his own agenda: he surprised his sister-in-law by getting down from the limousine himself.

"Ikkaku, why don't you give Inspector Kurosaki a lift home," he said quietly. "Then come back once you're done."

"I'm off-duty, so no formal titles, please," Ichigo automatically scowled. "And I like to walk. See you around, Rukia. Goodbye, Byakuya." He then walked away, although he had to control the intense urge to grab Rukia and run.

Ikkaku felt slighted. "Oh, for all the punks in the world," he complained. "I'll force that guy to get into the car. I'll be back, boss." He handed Rukia the umbrella and trudged off.

Rukia studied the landscape beyond her brother-in-law. She did not want to look at him. Her crying bout had weakened her. As she watched Ichigo disappear into the background, with the car trailing him, she felt even more drained than ever.

She stood sullenly beside Hisana's marker, and leaned against it for support. "You wished to talk to me."

"Rukia," Byakuya Kuchiki said, his voice more humbled than she had ever heard it before. "I have lost the right to call you sister. I have wronged you by doubting you. By wavering in my belief of your innocence, I hurt you. I should have done absolutely everything in my power to protect you. I did only what I thought was expected of me, but in fact it was my silence that condemned you in the eyes of so many."

He took a deep breath before proceeding, each sentence going out precise and unhurried, as if he wanted Rukia to understand how deeply he had thought and repented his own actions.

"I have wronged Hisana by doubting her trust in you. I should have known that you would never have hurt her, as I have now hurt her in death. I feel that I have betrayed her love and her trust, for you were always Hisana's most precious sister, even before she found you."

Rukia looked at him the moment he spoke these words. It did not surprise her that Byakuya's head was bowed low, as if he had no right to raise his head in Hisana's presence.

"I would beg forgiveness of Hisana if I could, but the dead cannot absolve the living. I doubt if you can ever forgive me, as I will find it impossible to forgive myself. I am truly sorry, Rukia. If there was anything --"

"Enough speeches," Rukia silenced him. "I want you to know that I am angry and hurt. But I hope there will be a time I will no longer feel these things, as you are my only family in the world now."

Hoping that she would not recoil from his touch, she held out her hand to her brother-in-law. He accepted it.

When Byakuya Kuchiki lifted his head, his stony façade had broken. His face glistened with silent tears.


	29. Ichigo's Epilogue

_**Ichigo's Epilogue: at the Karakura General Hospital**_

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Several days had passed since Rukia Kuchiki had been set free, but there was one last thing Ichigo wanted to clear up in his cluttered mind. He had already seen Shunsui and Nanao, who were sufficiently recovered to show up at the Twin Fish Office. He made sure to apologize to Ukitake, who brushed it off with a cheerful offer of green tea. Ichigo even showed up for that psychological counseling the Chief Inspector told him to get.

Yet there was still one person he needed to see before he could consider the case truly closed.

Ichigo made his way to the Yumisawa district where Kisuke Urahara was still convalescing at the Karakura General Hospital. Apparently the man needed physical therapy... or perhaps he just liked the presence of nurses looking after his every whim. Being the occasional lover of Chief Inspector Shihoin, Ichigo reflected, might do that to a man.

He found the man in bed, dressed down casually in his patient's gown but still wearing that ludicrous striped hat. It tipped forward in recognition.

"Oh, a visitor at last!" Urahara cooed. "If it isn't the elusive Inspector Kurosaki, savior of falsely accused heiresses and defender of truth and justice in the Commonwealth."

Ichigo grunted, as he settled down in a chair beside the bed. "I just wanted to ask something," he admitted.

"Ask away, Inspector!" Urahara said airily. "I'd say anything to help an officer of the law."

_Yeah right, _Ichigo thought. _I'm sure you would._ "Just this," he said out loud. "When you saw me in the court house… why couldn't you give me a more coherent clue, old man?" he scratched his head. "You could have saved a lot of time for everyone concerned."

Urahara peered at the young inspector from behind his fan. His eyes were almost prancing with delight. "Wasn't it clear enough to you?"

"Hell," Ichigo said, "It was clear as mud. You're lucky I didn't think you were a crazy person who escaped from Hueco Mundo who just pissed off another crazy. That Tousen is some nutcase."

"I can't believe you didn't get it right away." Urahara cocked an eyebrow. "And Yoruichi said you were promising! God save the Commonwealth if there are inspectors dumber than you."

When Ichigo made some protesting noises, the man added, "that's in all the classic mysteries, boy. Arsenic is famous for making skin pale and hair shiny. Everyone who's read a vintage whodunit knows that."

Ichigo Kurosaki wasn't about to admit he read nothing but _Shonen Jump_ off-duty.

"Thank you for checking up on me," Urahara said, proffering a business card. "It's quite decent of you. The hospital administration will be kicking me out in a couple of days."

"That's good." Ichigo didn't know what else to say to this man.

"You know… now that Rukia Kuchiki's a free woman, you should come drop by my candy shop. Show that card to my assistant, Ururu… she'll give you a ten percent discount. And for you, the chocolate cherry rabbits are half-price until Sunday."

Ichigo couldn't believe his ears. He wanted to tear up the card. Why did people assume he had the worst intentions towards Rukia Kuchiki? But grudgingly, he put it in his wallet all the same.

Urahara beamed. "Good luck with the future in-laws," he said, smirking. "Do you wish me to put in a good word for you with my landlord?"

Ichigo wanted to strangle the man.


	30. Rukia's Epilogue

_**Rukia's Epilogue: 200 Cherry Blossom Lane, Seireitei**_

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The old man was sitting in the beach deck, enjoying the seascape. He heard the noise of a slow bustle inside the house, and figured that the new mistress of the house had finally arrived.

"Grandfather Kuchiki," she said. "It's been a long time."

Ginrei Kuchiki greeted Rukia with an avuncular embrace. "I am glad you decided to stay."

"I did not want to come back here so soon," Rukia answered with all honesty, "But Nii-sama insisted. The Karakura press was getting intolerable, especially after Hisana's assets were turned over to me."

Ginrei nodded, his eyes partly closed.

Rukia misunderstood the old man. "Nii-sama didn't force me to come back," she clarified, "And I can leave whenever I want to. I just thought… it would be Hisana's wish, for me to remain near."

Ginrei leaned a gnarled hand over her young one. He was touched by her stumbling explanations. It was time to change the topic to something more hopeful. "Did you give your thanks to the young inspector?"

A passing shadow behind the palms paused, and waited for the reply.

Rukia's eyes went blank. Surely Grandfather Kuchiki was joking. "I think Ichigo knows that I'm thankful," she replied vaguely. "He must be busy fighting crime, and all that."

"No, he isn't," Ginrei shook his head. "Ikkaku told me that Inspector Kurosaki was put on administrative leave. Apparently he didn't follow protocol while working on your case."

"Oh." Rukia was dumbfounded. He hadn't thought of mentioning that important detail when he accompanied her to Hisana's grave. Suddenly she felt guilty all over again. She wanted to shake off this self-doubt.

"Do you think I can invite him over, Grandfather?" Rukia's voice was uncertain. She knew there was a boat somewhere with her name on it, but it was a hazy idea in her mind, just like all the money suddenly in her bank account.

"No, Rukia," the older Kuchiki replied, stroking his chin sagely. "Not if you wish to treat each other as equals. A man like that must be met on his own turf."

A slight flush colored Rukia's cheeks. She shook her head. She wasn't ready for the possibility of this yet. There was too many painful associations to recover from first. Didn't she just promise herself she would not set foot on mainland Karakura until she felt healed and everyone had forgotten about her?

Perhaps in another lifetime, she would barge in and take charge of Ichigo Kurosaki's life just to irritate the hell out of him. Then maybe if he was worth it she would never leave his side.

It wasn't fair – because of those tapes, and that scene at the graveyard, Inspector Kurosaki knew her much better than she knew him. She'd need to rectify that, somehow. All she had of him was a worn-out handkerchief and the knowledge that he'd saved her life.

_But I am a Kuchiki now,_ Rukia reminded herself. _I cannot abandon this new life that Hisana wanted for me. At least… she amended, not yet. _

Standing behind the palms, Byakuya seemed satisfied by this conversation. He moved on without announcing himself.

Seeing that she was getting lost in her own thoughts, Ginrei drifted away and left her to enjoy the serene solitude of the dusk.

Rukia sat down. Propping up her feet, she watched in silence. The moon began to rise and the ocean's waves licked the shoreline. And for the first time since her sister died, she began to feel at peace with the world.

Her fate -- whether she liked it or not -- was now entwined with Ichigo's. She had been in desperate need, and he had answered that call. As much as she hated the idea of being rescuee, something in his demeanor said that he felt the burden of always being the rescuer, too. Rukia would have to return the favor one day, perhaps to even out the score.

His real kindness was not in taking an interest in her case, but in his taking an interest in her welfare after all mystery had ended.

Yes. She would definitely see Ichigo Kurosaki again.

* * *

_**-- finis -- **_

_Many thanks for reading. I also thank you for your patience in waiting for me to finish this. _

_Thanks to Adam for spotting most of my typos. If you find any more, any corrections will receive e-strawberries dipped in chocolate. _


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